


An Unlikely Match

by Hold_en



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bets & Wagers, Desire, F/M, Face Punching, Fluff and Humor, Funny, Humor, Lust, Making Love, Making Out, Playing Hooky, Severus Snape Lives, Sex, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-04 20:34:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 48,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15155108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hold_en/pseuds/Hold_en
Summary: Hermione and Pansy unwittingly engage in vicious battle: who will bed Snape first?Only time will tell.Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that I own nothing of the Harry Potter world, nor am I receiving any type of compensation for my writing. Harry Potter and all characters within are from the brilliant mind of J.K. Rowling and I am just a thankful muggle who gets to temporarily play with them!





	1. A Wager is Made

* * *

“Watch it Mudblood,” Pansy spat rudely, shoving Hermione harshly with her pointed elbow to her side. Hermione in the middle of a novel hadn’t even seen the upcoming confrontation until it elbowed her quite roughly in the ribs and knocked her to the ground. Hermione gingerly grasped for the novel that had toppled to the ground, trying to ignore the dark giggle from above.  
  
“What the _hell_ is wrong with you?” Hermione said rubbing her ribs gingerly, looking up at the Slytherin girl with pure, unadulterated disdain. Gods she was a mad cow, that one. Pig faced too. Hermione stood shakily, grasping her book to her chest and glaring at the girl.

“Shouldn’t you be studying Pansy? Gods knows your N.E.W.T. scores could use the extra help.”

Pansy took a menacing step forward and Hermione felt her pulse spike. She slipped her hand down to her side, ready to grasp her wand should the need arise. But Pansy had stopped, her countenance suddenly demure.

  
“Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger. For your cheek.”  
  
Pansy smiled innocently over Hermione’s shoulder as the girl froze at the sound. Severus Snape, D.A.D.A. teacher and personal nightmare stood behind her, having just come out of the Library. Just her luck that he’d been witness to Hermione’s outburst. Hermione looked to Pansy in mute shock as the Slytherin girl gave her a surreptitious smirk.  
  
Hermione hated Pansy, this wasn’t shocking. Lots of people hated Pansy. It was almost natural that she and Hermione should hate each other. They were at opposite sides of the spectrum, Pansy a rough and rude girl of darkness while Hermione was a bright and reserved girl of light. The only thing they had in common? Perhaps their dark hair color.  
  
Now, Hermione didn’t dislike Pansy just because she was Slytherin, and not only because she had all her schooling paid for, but because she was able to be under the constant attention of one Severus Snape .

_I’m a fool._

Yes. She had a crush on Severus Snape. And the knowledge of that haunted her on a regular basis. She tried to logic it as what young schoolgirl didn’t have a slight fancy for a professor? Especially at the age of seventeen when hormones raced, the spring of adulthood stood in the very near future, and any virgin, boy or girl wanted a taste of what was so often reveled in common rooms or in hushed whispers in the Library. Besides, he was a double agent, a man who fearlessly sought to protect she and her friends when she knew he despised them.  
  
Now he was waltzing up beside her, looking utterly disenchanted at the moment and Hermione tried to regulate her breathing. It wasn’t that hard to cover up. She’d had plenty of practice as the whole ridiculous crush thing had begun in the late June air of her fifth year when she’d learned the truth of his double agency. Now in her sixth year she tried to ignore the internal tremble she felt whenever he passed her by.  
  
The thing was, it was hard to conceal the emotions he stirred within her. Because as much as she fancied him, she was certain of three things.  
  
1.) He was a miserable bastard.  
  
2.) His open despisal of anything non-Slytherin infuriated her.  
  
3.) Although she fancied him very much, she was also absolutely terrified of him  
  
She supposed it made sense. Love, Hate, Fear; all extremes in passion, all took much energy and so forth. So perhaps it was natural for Hermione to lust after him hate him and fear him all at the same time. She was mostly angry at how he made her feel constantly she was doing something completely idiotic and he would catch her. Or worse, when he ignored her in classes for favor of calling on his Slytherin lot.  
  
_Overgrown bat_.  
  
See, there she went again. She wanted him desperately and yet at the same time she wanted to slap that smirk off her face. He stood looking down at her right then with that infamous smirk once more and she trembled nervously.  
  
“Anything to say for yourself?”  
  
Hermione went flushed a slight pink from anger of flushed embarrassment? It was hard to tell yet she met his eyes, locking his gaze with her own. Millicent had walked up and joined Pansy, waiting patiently a few yards away, looking from their house leader to the furious Gryffindor in front of him.  
  
Snape waited for Hermione’s reply patiently, like a young child waiting for a chocolate. The anticipation was all part of the fun he supposed.  
  
Hermione Granger was a personal favorite torment for him. She had been the bane of his existence since her first year, and her sixth was no different. Gads, the questions and the hand raising! it was maddening. When these odd occasions for punishment did arise, when he found her doing something out of her character he was quick to snap up his opportunity. She was so meek at times it was almost laughable.  
  
Her obvious intelligence wasn’t the only thing that infuriated him about her, it was those two she was always with. It was the-boy-who-lived and his usually peaked accomplice the Weasel.  
  
Speak of the devil, he thought bitterly as their voices came yammering down the hallway and breaking the delightful tension and staring between he and a very flustered young Gryffindor. She looked to the two of them, a grimace on her face as they walked slowly past, trying to hear what was going on.  
  
“Move on,” he hissed darkly, “or Filch’ll have his hands full for the next year.”  
  
This was all boy wonder and his sidekick needed to hear, because after a solemn sorry look to their comrade they made a beeline down the hall for the common room, the destination Hermione had been trying to reach when accosted by Pansy.  
  
“I’m sorry Professor,” Hermione murmured gently to the floor before glancing up to meet his eyes once more. Gods his eyes were dark. She couldn’t bear to look at them any longer and so her eyes dropped to the floor. Snape seemed satisfied with this, and was about to walk on when Pansy spoke.  
  
“Sir. Hermione called me a pig-face before you got here.”  
  
Hermione’s eyes darted over to Pansy as her face screwed up into an angry scowl,

“You know that’s not true!” she challenged, aghast that Pansy would lie so blatantly. “You’re a liar!”  
  
Pansy strode over to her and in one sudden movement she was in front of her with Snape watching carefully from a few steps back, surveying the scene with interest. Pansy’s eyes narrowed as she leaned in, wanting some privacy Hermione supposed from the small crowd .  
  
“You better not be calling me a liar Mudblood,”  Pansy growled angrily, “because you won’t even live to regret it”

Her hand raised then and was about to register itself across Hermione’s cheek when Snape grasped her wrist, pulling her back. Hermione felt relief well up in her, and she wanted to thank him before he spoke once more.  
  
“Detention,” Snape said flatly before looking to an ashen Hermione, and then suddenly his eyes darted to Pansy, now standing with arms crossed. “Both of you.”  
  
Pansy’s eyes widened, obviously expecting the preferential treatment she believed she so deserved. “But Professo-“  
  
“Enough,”  Snape said darkly, “I haven’t time for inadequate excuses. I have much more pressing matters at hand.”

He looked to Hermione who looked utterly shattered. Served her right. Always parading around like she was some brilliant gift from above.

“Seven o’clock. Potions classroom.”  
  
“Potions classroom?” Hermione blurted out, as Snape’s black eyes darted over to her, she blanched and immediately wished she hadn’t said a word. Snape peered at her dangerously quiet for a moment.  
  
“Yes, Potions classroom.”  
  
Hermione nodded, and noticed he was waiting for some kind of explanation of her strange need to blurt out the first thing that came to her mind. His eyebrow was raised as he awaited her reasoning.  
  
“Oh, well, I just assumed we’d be stationed with Filch is all,” Hermione stammered, trailing off and not meeting his eye.  
  
Finally after a disgruntled, “Well, if no one else has any more brilliant observations pertaining to placement, I’ll see you sharply at seven.”  
  
He strode off then, muttering about _silly little girls_ and _babysitting._ Pansy sighed looking after him with a wistful llook. Millicent, obviously disregarding Hermione as a person, turned her friend.  
  
“Still pining after him I assume?” Millicent said giggling as Pansy shot her a dark look. She shrugged, looking after his diminishing and then vanished frame as she leaned against the wall, fanning herself dramatically.  
  
“That voice! Can you blame me?” she offered breathily as she and Millicent giggled amongst themselves. They didn’t pay any attention to the fact that Hermione was still there which was worse than if they had.  
  
Ignoring her like this was just another way of saying, _you dont really matter enough to even get angry at_ _,_ _you_ _’_ _re just that pathetic._ But the news that Pansy liked Snape? She couldn’t help but feel shock.    
  
“You fancy Snape?” Hermione admonished outlandishly, again wanting to slap herself as the  Slytherin girls glanced over at her with withering stares.

_Why oh why do I speak in the first place?_

Pansy shot her a dark look, “obviously I fancy him, you twit.”  
  
Hermione nodded, embarrassed and angry for letting her curiosity get the better of her. She was also feeling remarkably jealous. She was blushing like mad now, it felt like her cheeks were on fire and she wanted desperately to stop it, they mustn’t ever-  
  
“Ohhhh,” Millicent said, nudging Pansy in the side playfully, “I think a certain little Gryffindor is all hot and bothered over a certain Professor herself.”  
  
Hermione paled then, looking at the bemused lot of Slytherin tarts. “Ridiculous! Of course I don’t!”  
  
Pansy and the girl strode over to a book-toting Hermione, whose boiling anger had given way to sudden distress. Were they going to beat her for fancying him? Pansy certainly wasn’t above it. No Slytherin was.  
  
“I think you do,”  Pansy said, and Hermione waited for the first swing to strike her face, and damage all the work her dentist parents had put into her teeth but instead Pansy continued. “And why shouldn’t you?”  
  
“But I don-“  
  
“Cut it out Granger, I can tell just by your red face.”  
  
“ _Betrayed by my own body_ ,” Hermione thought miserably, she was going to buy a book on how to control ones blushing when talking to certain girls about crushes on teachers. Pansy and the Millicent snickered darkly, looking at the obviously distressed princess of Gryffindor.  
  
“But if in the foolish recesses of your mind, you think you have any chance with him,” Pansy offered with a warning sneer, “I suggest you give up right now.”  
  
_Was that a challenge?_  
  
“What makes you say that?”  
  
Pansy and the other girl chuckled, and making sure they were completely alone in the hallway before she continued.

“Granger, you’ve got the seduction talents of a dead ferret and  he hates you. All you Gryffindors. There’s no way in hell he’d ever voluntarily be in the same room with you, let alone get you in the sack.”  
  
Hermione’s lip quivered with fury at that rude, little, cow.

“And you think you could get him to go to bed with you? A student?“  
  
“Definitely,”  Pansy smirked devilishly, “Compared to you I am the goddess of everything Slytherin. I see Snape all the time, and plus, I’m not some wayward little virgin mudblood Gryffindor whose probably never even seen a grown man naked.”  
  
Hermione’s cheeks flushed at this and the Slytherin girls cackled evilly. Pansy was correct; she most certainly did not have even half the experience Pansy did. She devoted her free time to reading, opting for fact and reliance rather than silly little emotions like lust and on the odd occasion she overheard, love.  
  
“But Professor Snape,” Hermione sputtered, “he’s not an easy man to, for lack of better words, _conquer_. He wouldn’t let a student _touch_ him, let alone bed him.”  
  
Pansy smirked, “I know a lot more about the male species than you do Granger. And I also know our beloved Potions Master has not been getting any any for a _long_ time.”  
  
Hermione shuffled a bit embarrassed, this was Snape after all they were talking about. Hermione couldn’t honestly see him kissing or having sex with anyone, let alone a student. Even in her wildest dreams he was reticent, controlled and distant.  
  
“The tides are also changing,” Pansy whispered eagerly taking in the girl’s blanching face. Hermione knew exactly what she was referring to; Voldemort. But she had to school her features and not let the Slytherin girl’s know she knew of anything. She had to keep the conversation on their Professor.

“That doesn’t prove anything,” Hermione said resignedly, finally sighing in fatigue. “Besides, its stupid to argue about this in the first place. Especially about something we couldn’t possible prove.”  
  
Her latest remark hung in the air, as Pansy glanced back to her classmate before looking back to Hermione as she smirked triumphantly.  
  
“Or _could_ we?”  
  
“Pardon?”

“I bet I could bed Snape before you could,” Pansy’s eyes flashed, as Hermione looked to her in disbelief.  
  
“You’re joking.”  
  
The Slytherin girls rolled their eyes, and Hermione knew they were thinking she was hopeless.  
  
“We’d be expelled!”    
  
Pansy shook her head, “You think Snape would ever tell anyone he bedded a student? Are you mad?”

“But what if he refused outright? We’d surely be expelled then!”

Pansy gave Hermione the most supercilious sneer she had ever seen.

“I don’t plan on being refused,” she said with a merry laugh, “though I can’t say the same for you.”  
  
Hermione’s pulse quickened at the slight. She knew that the Gryffindor part of her would never back down without a fight. But was it enough to put her entire future at risk? Voldemort was still out there, Harry still needed her help. So why was she even considering it?

“It’s all about house pride,” Millicent suddenly said very dramatically pressing her hand over her heart. “Gryffindor versus Slytherin.”  
  
Hermione’s heart began to pound, it was all about house pride. She was not about to let Gryffindor down, especially in something this stupid. Besides, like Snape would even fall victim to their charms no matter how experienced Pansy was, Snape was not an easy conquest  
  
She came to the realization that neither of them would be able to bed the Professor. But if she said she'd compete, at least she' look like she had some conviction and bravery. She was Gryffindor after all. Perfect. Her pride and her virginity would remain intact. Although if she was honest, she could do away with the latter.  
  
“Fine,” Hermione said loudly, causing them to look at her in disbelief. Was frigid Hermione Granger accepting their lurid deal? Yes.she was, willingly!. Hermione felt her breath go shaky. 

“But we need to have a contract."

The other girls groaned irritably before waiting for Hermione to continue. Of course the girl had rules about this. How unsurprising. The only thing not shocking was that she wasn’t writing up a bloody contact for them to sign at this very second.

“I'll write it up,” Hermione insisted, “and if I win, there will be no more of this Mudblood nonsense. And if you win, I shall do your charms homework for the rest of term.”  
  
Pansy contemplated the terms for a quick moment, knowing that charms were her weakest subject and Granger knew it. She decided internally before giving a resolute nod.

“Is that a deal then Granger?”  
  
There was a challenge in her tone, one that if Hermione backed down from she would have no pride at all. And so, in a deep breath of Gryffindor bravery she nodded and spoke aloud.

“Deal,” Hermione said stiffly, a little nervous now as she prepared to walk off. But suddenly with a small smirk that was all too Slytherin she added;  
  
“I may just surprise you.”


	2. All's Fair in Love and War

Hermione walked wobbly back to her common room, her eyes wide as she contemplated her next move. What could she do? Her heart was pounding madly in her chest. She passed the cheerful classmates with a stricken nod.

 _What have I done?_  
  
Collapsing into a large red chaise that looked into the glowing hearth of the fire, she closed her eyes and attempted to slow the beat of her heart and the raggedness of her breathing.  
  
Of all the stupid things I've done in the past, this has to top them all. Bedding a PROFESSOR no less! A Death Eater! A man whose had tons of women! A man who was much older, experienced and, if she was honest not completely trustworthy.  
  
She wondered why she felt anything for him at all, beyond the fear and anger towards him, she could not deny that she found him darkly sexy. That sumptuous voice, those graceful hands, that piercing mind. That brilliant mind of his was the absolute turn on, he knew everything. Not limited to just Potions as far as she could tell from his D.A.D.A. class. And with his voice she could listen to him ramble off instructions for days...  
  
The common room was quite empty, save for some boys that mingled around Lavender as she batted her eyelashes at them. Hermione looked to her in envy. Lavender; now there was a girl who knew everything about prettying up to boys. But Snape was a grown man and not one to be won over with batting of eyelashes, and giggling at stupid jokes.    
  
"Stop it!" Lavendar said giggling again, pushing Seamus from her as he was crowding her quite obviously. Seamus turned red but still stayed around with her and the other boys who were obviously vying for her attention. Hermione was secretly thankful she wouldn't have to put up with Ron mooning after her anymore.  
  
Hermione sighed, and with a short _accio parchment_ a long white scroll flew into her open hand. She suspected that Pansy and her lot were already up to something horrible and here she was all alone with no help at all. She began writing at a mad pace, hoping it was going to end up legible. She decided that when going up against the Slytherin team she better be prepared, she just needed some good old Gryffindor rules.  
  
Rule 1: No outside assistance.  
  
Rule 2: No defacing the opponent to make the other seem more lust worthy  
  
Rule 3: No Love, lust, admiration etc...potions of ANY kind.  
  
Rule 4: Glamour charms are not to be used at all.  
  
Rule 5: proof of bedding the object in question is required; a small token from his rooms.

There. That seemed to cover everything, without making her out to be a prude. She placed the letter in a nearby owl’s beak and whispered Pansy’s name. It took off with a whoosh of its wings and Hermione looked after it wistfully.

How simple it would be just to fly away from life’s problems. Like this one; she knew there was no way that she was going to win Snape’s affection, much less his lust. But she had to give it a try, to at least give the appearance of trying.  

 She sighed heavily, and walked to her room. She knew she had until after supper to get ready, but the rapid beating of her heart would not stop. She went into her trunk at the end of her bed, digging around until her eyes lit up.

She pulled a white shirt bought for her fifth year. She smirked and flinging her other shirt off, pulled this one on. A little snug in the chest – perfect! That was precisely what she had been planning for.  
  
She stood to the side, looking into the long mirror and blushing a bit. She looked quite heavily endowed now; not that she was flat chested to begin with. But this definitely gave the impression of a chest worth taking a second glance at.  

 _Good tactics._ She thought to herself, unbuttoning the first two buttons on her tight blouse. _If you want to beat a Slytherin, you have to think like a Slytherin_  
  
* * *  
  
On the other side of the school, Pansy and Millicent were standing in the Slytherin common room, laughing and trying to come up with a brilliant plan to defeat the _'oh so intimidating goddess of shagging, Hermione Granger'_.  
  
There was a small tap on the glass that broke the huddled group's attention, an owl stood perched outside, looking frightened. This was Slytherin territory. Pansy smirked and bringing the owl inside took the scroll from its leg. It pushed away from her and darted out the window. Pansy, still laughing opened the first small piece of parchment with her name on it.  
  
_Pansy,_  
  
_I've included rules as follows. Hope you enjoy them. If any of the rules are broken, the opposing party will be marked._  
  
_Hermione_  
  
Pansy dejectedly rolled open the scroll and let out a groan. Millicent rushed over to see what was the matter.  
  
_'Rules for the Shagging Competition'_ greeted them in a golden glare, and Pansy and he minion’s suppressed an urge to tear it up. They passed a wand over it, and saw that Hermione had created quite the wallop of spells to cover, and keep the deal fair and pertaining to her set rules.  
  
"She has to have rules for everything," Pansy commented dryly, her attention on the small scroll as she read it with Millicent and Blaise doing the same over her shoulder.  
  
"Sounds fair enough," said Millicent diplomatically. Pansy shrugged.

"I suppose," she said dejectedly. "But no outside assistance? No friends helping friends?"  
  
Millicent hgav her friend a dark look. 

"We're Slytherin's Pansy, we'll think of something."  
  
***

Hermione made her way down the hall to the Great Hall for dinner with Ron at her side. Her stomach was whirring and her mind as well.  
  
She made a note, NOT to look at Snape during dinner, as that would only be sure to turn him off. She imagined that last thing he would want, was a moony schoolgirl staring at him as he tried to eat his meal.  Plus she already had the obvious disadvantage of being Gryffindor and best friend to Harry Potter.

 _No matter. It's about house pride. And I refuse to let down Gryffindor_.  
  
"What are you thinking about 'Mione?" Ron said nudging her, she broke off from her thoughts and looked to Ron with a faint smile on her face.  
  
"Nothing much Ron," she said looking to him with a soft smirk now, "Just you know, thinking."  
  
Ron nodded, and sat next to her in the Hall, looking at the food laid out in front of him. He quickly gobbled it down, not noticing Hermione looking to the Slytherin table.

They had each signed and delivered back the scroll she had currently locked up in he in herr trunk chambers, and she couldn 't help but have the sneaking suspicious that something was truly amiss as the girl’s shot smug looks to her over their suppers.  
  
Against her own internal admonitions, she casually lifted her eyes to search out the frame of their victim, Professor Snape. But, to her immediate shock she saw that he was looking at her. He raised a dark eyebrow at her suddenly wide eyes.  
  
Her eyes dropped as her cheeks flushed, she willed them to stop. What was he doing looking at her?  
  
"You alright 'Mione?" Harry asked from across the table, "you look slightly pink. Are you sick?"  
  
"Fine Harry," Hermione grumbled, drinking her pumpkin juice in one swig, "Just fine."

_He couldn't have been looking at me. I'll just see..._

She lifted her eyes to see his and saw to her slight disgruntlement, that he was most certainly not looking at her, he was looking at Pansy.  
  
Hermione now crestfallen looked to Pansy who herself was giving Snape such looks of her obvious intentions that she was surprised that Snape didn't take her down to his chambers right then.  
  
Hermione saw that he gave Pansy a sort of confused look, and then continued surveying the tables...when Hermione saw that gaze of his drift over to her table, she had already engrossed herself in a sudden and unexpected conversation with Ron and Harry about Quidditch.

When Ron and Harry were done relaying some stupid scores Hermione felt it was safe to leave. She was going to blow everything if she stayed. If Snape looked at her again she was going to turn beet red. She realized that she was Hermione Granger; a girl who researched and planned before going into action. That’s what she needed to do.

 _I need to make a real plan._    
  
With that resolute thought in her mind, she stood up quickly preparing to go to the Library and ran smack into the figure of the infamous Severus Snape who was passing at that exact moment and happened to be carrying a glass of what Hermione assumed to be elf-made wine.

“Oof!”  
  
She gave a small groan as she felt his rather strong and warm form as he held her shoulders a moment, the front of his shirt sopping wet. She looked to his eyes a moment, hoping they conveyed her sincere apology. Which the evidently did not as he then pushed her from him, sneering.  
  
“Watch where you’re going Granger. Ten points.”  
  
He turned giving her one last glare and made his way to the door, where Hermione’s heart sank as Pansy strolled into view. Smiling prettily from under her thick eyelashes and gazing adoringly up at Snape as he approached.

Pansy was holding a small washcloth out to the Professor. She smiled sweetly at him as he looked to her warily, Hermione couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she witnessed as Snape took the cloth from Pansy, and heading out the door dabbed at his shirt.  
  
"All is fair in love and war Granger," Pansy whispered to a furious Hermione as Pansy passed her heading back to her Slytherin table, "you best get used to it."


	3. A Tall Dark Git of a Problem

Hermione was fuming by the time she had run back to her chambers. The utter gall of that girl.  
  
Hermione's dark mood only deepened when she came to the obvious conclusion, that in the most likely scenario, Snape would indeed pick Pansy over her in a heartbeat.  
  
And why shouldn't he? He was Slytherin as was she. Both evidently cunning minds and Pansy always seemed to be at the right place at the right time. Like for example dinner, Pansy had so brilliantly acted fast giving him that damned cloth.  
  
_Think! You're not going to win if you’re so passive and compliant. Think! You're known for your brilliance. Stop being a baby!_  
  
But, her bad mood was soon lifted as she recalled what had passed between her and Snape in the Great Hall earlier this evening. His firm body against her own as he glared down at her. She felt her skin crawl in an electric fashion, sending her most sensitive area's on high alert it would seem.  
  
She could practically feel his chest through those layers of clothing, if she hadn't been in such a state of shock perhaps she would have used it to her advantage. Surreptitiously given him a squeeze or something.

But no, she had done what she always did when she was around him. He had gone rigid and been pushed from him. Pansy was surely going to win and fast if Hermione didn’t think of something.  
  
She looked to the small shirt she was still wearing, and in a manner of sudden inspiration smoothed her hair the best she could (which wasn’t much if she was honest). She licked her lips in front of the mirror moments later, practicing how she should do it in front of him. Him. Dread invaded her.  
  
Her watch read 6:46 then, and with a forced smile on her trembling lips.

No point in being late.

***  
  
"Hello Granger," Pansy said as Hermione rounded the corner and walked in front of Snape's door where Pansy was waiting eagerly. “I didn’t think you’d show up.”

  
"You look different," Hermione blurted as Pansy chuckled darkly, giving Hermione a supercilious look from under heavily made up eyes.  
  
"I did my hair."

"It's part of the rules, glamour charms aren't to be used," Hermione was outraged, Pansy was already going against the rules! But if that was the case, then why wasn't she-  
  
Pansy sighed, "I know that genius, I happen to be quite gifted with updos."  
  
"Oh," was Hermione's first and jealous response. Pansy was known as pig-faced, that was true but right now she looked really decent. Hermione was actually jealous for a flicker of a moment as she imagined Snape's response.  
_  
Why Miss Parkinson...you look quite lovely this evening..._

No, that wasn't really Snape's style at all.  
  
Suddenly Pansy let out a small squeak of a giggle as Hermione looked to her inquiring. 

"Nice shirt." she said between giggles, looking pointedly to Hermione's cleavage "How ever did you become a Gryffindor?"  
  
Hermione blushed and shrugged, on her own Pansy wasn't half as intimidating. She had undone her robe a bit, to show a flash of her chest. "I just wanted to even the stakes I suppose."  
  
Pansy smirked, shaking her head "You're going to need a lot more than that."  
  
Hermione frowned...there was the old Pansy back, she was about to retort back when the door to Snape's chambers suddenly flew open.  
  
"I said seven o'clock you giggling dunderheads." he said irritably, looking to his pocket watch, "It is now seven oh one. I haven't all night."  
  
Hermione and Pansy uttered their respective, "sorry" and followed him into the classroom, Pansy rather close to him. Hermione thought she saw Snape's gaze linger over Pansy's new look a moment longer than expected. Damn.  
  
Suddenly, Hermione forged ahead, feigning a trip over a stray pebble and grasped onto the surprisingly muscular arm of Professor Snape for support. She knew it was a rather obvious attempt, but she’d panicked.

_Gods I’m pathetic._

He waited until she had steadied herself before pulling hastily away, commenting on what a silly little girl she was.  
  
Pansy instantly berated herself for not being more on the ball. Hermione had already made physical contact with the enigmatic Professor. Snape was already moving faster to the front of the room, giving Hermione one last puzzled look.  
  
Score one for Gryffindor.  
  
Hermione shot a superior look to Pansy as the other girl sneered. _That_ _’_ _ll show those Slytherins_ Hermione thought proudly. And she hadn't even been that nervous; well, okay that was a lie. She had half expected Snape to drop her on the floor. Which he hadn’t! Progress!  
  
Snape turned to them and pointed to two separate tables across the room, and set them to work, standing at the front by his desk at the large chalkboard.  
  
" Considering Slughorn is your current Potions professor I can only imagine the lack of education you’re both receiving. In that vein, I shall write up a potion on the board. You are to complete it, bottle it, label it and put it on my desk. Secondly, you are to write a short but concise essay on the properties of a blasmak. Any questions? Good."  
  
He wrote the potion up hurriedly on the board, and Hermione immediately got to work, looking to the board and back at her supplies as Snape sat in his desk, quill poised as he marked prior assignments.  
  
For a moment all that could be heard was Hermione's clinking of tubes, and Snape's quill scratching on parchment. Hermione well imagined he was giving big fat F's to everyone.

 _Miserable git._  
  
Pansy's sudden gasp broke their attention as she conveniently upset a small bottle of roots, and they scattered under her desk sounding like beads on a marble floor.  
  
She gave a ditzy shrug to no one in particular and dramatically turned her back to a confused Snape, and with her bottom delicately placed in the air, she bent over and collected the roots.  
  
Hermione saw the flicker of uncertainty pass over Snape as he gazed at Pansy. Hermione could've sworn she heard him breathe a little deeper than normal.  
  
Perhaps it was true. Perhaps Snape hadn't gotten any in a long time. For some reason, unbidden an image of Snape holding a large piece of cardboard in front of himself, with the words: " _Will do potions for sex_ " written on it came into the forefront of her mind.  
  
Hermione tried to keep in the laughter that threatened to spill from her, but couldn't. Between Pansy's dramatic display and her image of Snape begging for sex she was in hysterics and soon her laughter rang through the air, breaking Snape from his trance.  
  
"What is so amusing Granger?" he hissed, evidently angered at the intrusion on his libido. Hermione's laugh died in her throat as his dark eyes cut into her.  
  
_Nothing sir, I was just picturing you begging for sex and then of course there's Pansy's gratuitous butt waving, but other than that…_  
  
"Nothing sir."  
  
He frowned deeply and she flushed as she went back to her work, scribbling and pouring while Snape's quill found its way back onto his parchment.  
  
It was then that Hermione realized that Pansy wasn't really moving much, more looking to the board and then looking distressed to the ingredients before her. She let out a very loud sigh.  
  
"Is there a problem, Miss Parkinson?" Snape asked, a kink in his dark eyebrow as he surveyed her helplessness. She nodded emphatically, out of the corner of her eyes she saw Hermione looking to her in disbelief.  
  
"There is actually, Professor." she said sickeningly sweet, "I can't seem to get this one part in the potion right."

  
Well, Snape was known for his Slytherin favoritism, and this was no different. He softly sighed, rose and walked over to where Pansy was squirming in delight. Perfect.  
  
Hermione knew exactly what Pansy was doing. She felt her cheeks burn with anger; why did she always have to flaunt her own brilliance? Pansy was making so much progress it was mind boggling. Hermione decided resolutely, Snape was a man who wanted a forward girl one to be direct - someone like Pansy.  
  
"What don't you understand?" he said stiffly, standing across the table from her. Pansy licked her lips slowly as he shuffled looking at her table.  
  
"It would be better if I showed you from _this_ side," she said motioning beside her. Hermione sighed heavily, honestly it was getting pathetic.  
  
Snape must have caught wind of her sigh because he looked to her, laboring over her potion as Pansy stood before him, looking helpless. He had the distinct feeling he was being toyed with.  
  
"I can understand perfectly from where I'm currently standing, Miss Parkinson." he said flatly, looking to her with his dark, tunnel-like eyes.  
  
Pansy flushed nodding, "I just thought...well, anyway, I think I can get on all right. I was just reading the instructions wrong. Thanks anyway."  
  
Hermione had long ignored the interaction between Pansy and Snape and was currently bringing her potion to a simmer. She heard his voice as he spoke with Pansy, and her mind started to wander.  
  
She imagined them alone in his classroom, candles all around and Snape coming up behind her, kissing her neck softly, his arms wrapped around her middle as she grasped the back of his neck in a passionate kiss.  
  
She could practically feel his fingers dancing along her skin, playing about with her nipples and kissing her deeply, his tongue sliding in and tasting her. She shivered at this image.  
  
"Are you cold?"  
  
Hermione nearly jumped as she realized the real life Snape was standing directly behind her. She thought she could feel his robes brushing her bare calves. Her heart stopped a moment.  
  
"No sir," she said, not able to turn and meet his eyes.  
  
Pansy looked over to Snape, looking to the back of Hermione's head and she instantly kicked herself for acting so forward. Perhaps Snape was a man who wanted a meek, timid woman like Hermione.  
  
Hermione heard Snape breathing shallowly behind her a moment and then uttering a low, "carry on then," he was gone.  
  
And so was her chance.  
  
By the end of their detention, Hermione's hand was cramped as was Pansy's, and all prior thoughts about seducing Snape were replaced by comforting images of beds and sleeping.  
  
Pansy dragged herself up to the front of Snape's classroom and handed him her paper. He nodded, taking it from her and watching her stroll off. He looked over to Hermione on the other side of the vast and dimly lit room.  
  
"Time's up Granger."  
  
Hermione could only nod, frustrated as she finished her last paragraph and made her way to the front with her tube and messy parchment. She felt nervous just walking up to see him as he was staring at her at the moment, just like at dinner.  
  
"Here you are sir."  
  
She handed her paper to him, leaning forward a bit as he was leaning back, not looking at him.

_My he smells good. Must be all those potions he works on._

When her dark eyes finally looked to him, to her surprise he was staring directly at her quite overly exposed chest. She breathed heavily as a look of subtle arousal set about his features.  
  
She stood straight then, looking to his gaze that was now set on her eyes, looking neutral. She didn't speak, but as usual Snape did.  
  
"Is there a problem, Miss Granger?"  
  
Hermione shook her head no, and turning ran from the classroom. Only there was a problem. A big one.  
  
A tall, dark git of a problem.


	4. Aroused by Fury

Hermione's heart was still pounding when she reached the door to her room. The door swung open and she raced inside, her hands shaking with nervous worry as she collapsed into her bed. The rest of the girls were asleep, thank goodness. Otherwise they would have seen the frantic mess that she was.

 What had just transpired between she and the Professor? Surely Professor's weren't to look at their students quite like that? Or was she imagining it?

 _Students aren't to dress like you are now_ said her conscience and she had to agree. She had just been so taken aback. Snape was a grown man after all, and she hadn't much experience with men...any really.  
  
She looked to her reflection in the mirror that stood near the back of her room. She sighed; ripping the scrap of material she called a shirt, and quickly climbed into her pajamas.  
  
She should ease up on Snape’s reaction though. He was a man after all and men liked women's breasts. It was only natural. Biological even. She nodded as she lay on her bed, under the comforting blankets and stared up at her ceiling.  
  
She couldn't help but shake the feeling that there was something quite dark and sinister about Professor Snape, something that not many saw. That look on his face moments earlier had been dark desire; something Hermione suddenly didn't know if she could go through with.  
  
No.  
  
She gritted her teeth, even if she was blindly afraid of Snape, she wasn't going to lose this bet no matter what. She rolled over on her bed, desperately trying to sleep. She'd need her energy for tomorrow.  
  
For tomorrow was plan B.  
***  
Pansy woke the next morning with a frown. She had disregarded all help from Millicent and Blaise, telling them she didn't want to lose.  
  
They tried to give her tips, but she ignored them all, telling them she was going to win this bet fair and square. That way Hermione wouldn't be able to say she cheated.  
  
Her mind suddenly flitted to the other evening, she remembered Snape's tall frame from last night, almost towering over her. She remembered those lips of his, pursed in thought.  
  
She had wanted to kiss him desperately. She didn't care that he was acrimonious, she found him so very desirable, his mean facade only tantalizing her more.  
  
But she also remembered the look Snape had been giving Hermione as she turned from him, looking bashfully down at her cauldron. Pansy frowned a moment and then resumed her prepping.  
  
She put her dark hair into a long braid, and slipped on her glasses she usually only reserved for reading. She opted for no makeup, but just a little gloss for her lips.  
  
She put on her longest robe, and looked to herself in the mirror. Excellent. If Snape wanted a meek little wisp of a girl, he was going to get it.  
***  
  
"Wow...what's with Hermione?" Harry asked, nudging Ron as they looked to the figure strolling towards them. It was Hermione, hair brushed and in loose curls around her face, walking in a way they hadn't seen before. She looked so confident.  
  
"I don't know. She's..." Ron was at a loss for words, Hermione was suddenly commanding attention from all the tables, tossing her hair airily and smiling to all the attention.  
  
More attention was drawn as another figure entered the hall. Pansy Parkinson, looking so out of character it took several moments for people to recognize her.  
  
"Is that Pansy?" Harry said, his mouth gaping. "But she looks like...Hermione."  
  
It was almost true. While Hermione didn’t have glasses and her hair was normally unruly, Pansy had managed to adopt Hermione's former scurrying steps and the book in the crook of her arm only added.  
  
"It's like they've switched personalities," Ron said looking to Harry oddly and stopping as Hermione sat next to them.  
  
"Good morning," she said airily, looking to her breakfast. "Ohhh..I can't possibly eat all this."  
  
Harry shot her a bizarre look.

 

"You always do."

 

Hermione sighed heavily, her eyebrows furrowed. "Not anymore. I'm on a diet."

Harry and Ron exchanged glances as Hermione nibbled on a piece of dry toast and downed her water.  
  
Breakfast was a solemn event, Snape wasn't there. Pansy and Hermione passed curious glances to one another a moment before being dragged into conversations by their friends.  
  
"You've been acting weird Hermione," Ron said frowning over his breakfast. "You seem… Different."  
  
Hermione smirked. Perfect. She herself had decided this morning that Snape wanted a commanding woman, one self-assured like Pansy, and she was willing to oblige. This was after all for Gryffindor. Suddenly Seamus' voice broke out beside her.  
  
"Hey Hermione," he said grinning, "you sure look nice."  
  
_Well, I might as well get some practice in_.

Hermione tossed her hair dramatically over her shoulder and looked to a now grinning Seamus.  
  
"You really think so Seamus?" she asked giggling foolishly.

  
"Hermione," Ron said suddenly breaking the moment, between bites of his meal, "Can you help me with my Potions homework?"  
  
Hermione's eyes lit up and she was about to say an exuberant _'Sure Ron, when_?' but her plan! She quickly cleared her throat, looking sort of crestfallen and shook her head.  
  
"I'm really quite busy Ron. Sorry."

She turned her attention back to Seamus, but he had already gotten up and left for classes. She sighed and took a big forkful of bacon.  
  
"I thought you were on a diet," Ron said with a frown.  
  
"Shut up."  
***  
  
Snape was walking down the hall, looking angrily at everyone who passed him. He had slept in and missed breakfast and in turn was quite miserable.  
  
Some stupid boy had given his defense partner a cauliflower ear – a true cauliflower at that! Luckily Snape had easily remedied it.  
  
The little prat was lucky hadn't been expelled. Snape had given him detention with Filch, knowing he wouldn't be able to stand another idiotic moment with him.

By the time the early evening rolled around he was snarky and taking points off everyone. So he finally sat in his office, drinking in the silence. He didn't feel like going to dinner. All that noise, and those children. He wondered why he had to eat there at all, certainly didn't seem worth it.  
  
Especially as of late, with those two girls in detention last night. What had they been playing at? Snape shook his head free of thoughts of students and responsibilities and instead enjoyed a small glass of elf-made wine.

  
***  
  
Hermione was walking down the hall, her heart pounding furiously as she considered her future moves in the bet. Should she tell Snape her feelings for him? Hopefully that would win him over.

Ha! The very thought made her want to vomit. 

  
She had a sneaking suspicion that Professor Snape would be more likely to jump off a building that listen to some little twit confess her feelings for him. He probably dealt with it all the time. School girl crushes were surely not lost on him after over a decade of teaching.  
  
Besides, she already had a new persona: Hermione Granger, wanton sex goddess. Well, she just had to get the sex thing over with and she'd be true to her name.

Hopefully.  
  
She was currently thinking of something she could say to Snape when she reached his office.

_I can say I lost my wand and…. No, that’s a stupid idea._

He'd get angry for her disrupting him and tell her to bugger off and find McGonogall.  
  
Hmmmm.. perhaps she needed to make her intentions obvious.

_Professor Snape, is that a mirror in your pocket? Because I can see myself in your pants!_

She fell into a fit of giggles as she imaged his face at that line.    
  
She was still thinking of a reason to talk to him when she strolled by his doors tentatively, and heard his familiar low growl sounding off, "Dammit."  
  
She felt her heart catch in her throat, and against all her better reason she became immediately aroused. Why? Why was his fierce anger such a turn on? Why was she so drawn to his outbursts of fury?  
  
Well, Hermione was about to find out because she had just pushed open his classroom door and crept inside.


	5. Quite Unexpected

She knew he didn't see her enter because he was still sitting at his desk with his eyes fixed on the essay in front of him. The charms that kept his door locked had been forgotten for this evening.

  
He looked so broad shouldered as she watched him, his eyes piercing into the essay that was likely giving him grief. She noticed it was late and he was here marking papers? When did he find time?

 

She looked to him a moment not only as a conquest, but as a man. A double agent, a teacher, a terribly brave individual. Also a terribly dark individual she couldn’t help but add. But still, a thrill of respect intermingled with desire flushed through her.

  
She decided to tell him she was there and uttered a small, "Professor?"  
  
He looked startled, his back going straight and his hands hand clenching on his large desk as he looked to her fiercely.  
  
"What are you doing in here?" he hissed scathingly. Hermione shuddered, feeling the apex of her thighs growing wet. She was ashamed at that being her reaction when he was furious. Her libido was off the hook, but her reason told her to run.  
  
"I was just passing to...go to the Library and I heard you muttering in here. I was checking to see if you were alright."  
  
Snape's dark eyes narrowed on her, his arms crossing over his chest protectively.

 

"This is quite a detour from the Library, Miss Granger."  
  
Hermione offered a small shrug, trying to appeal to him as Pansy had. Ditzy. Snape wasn't looking too impressed though and Hermione abandoned all earlier ideas of acting forward and idiotic.

 

“Would you like some help grading those papers?”

 

Snape stiffened as his eyes narrowed on her frame suspiciously. What was she doing here? And now offering to help grade papers?

 

“Any chance to show off that know-it-all intellect Granger? Hoping for some more house points?”

 

“No sir,” Hermione answered primly. “I just thought you might want some help.”

She was standing a few feet from him, looking to him with passionate intensity. She wanted to smack his smug face and yet she desired nothing more than for his mouth to take hers right there.  
  
She couldn't understand what she was feeling. It was a crush, pure and simple. A lust for an older, dashing man that really couldn't stand her.  
  
Now he was looking to her strangely, not as formidable as before, but still a puzzling look in the least. She was thankful that she had worn proper clothing now.  
  
"Fine," Snape said bitterly,

 

Hermione knew how furious he was for her barging in on him. She nodded, closing the door behind her and walking to him. She didn’t know what compelled her to offer help, other than she really did feel pity for him at times. The life of a double agent surely had to be stressful.  
  
All her senses seemed to be on end, as she took in every scent around her, her eyes seemed keener, her fingers tingling as she looked to the lust worthy man that invaded her dreams and just as often; her nightmares.  
  
He was really quite broad in the shoulder's she noticed as she stepped closer to him, trying to see the top of his head clearly. He looked down to her darkly, his hooded eyes surveying her.

   
“Here,” he muttered, tossing her a stack of first year essays onto the opposite side of his large desk. “Look for obvious factual errors, I will mark the content later.”

 

With that he placed himself back at his seat, observing detachedly as Hermione slid into the chair across from him and got to work.

  
Hermione thought she could feel the heat radiating off of him as she began to organize the parchment in front of her. She could feel his gaze on her form and she realized that this was much too nerve wracking.  
  
Hermione took a deep breath, alarm bells going off in her mind as she shakily raised a quill to mark a first year defense essay on gnomes.

 

_C'mon Hermione. Chin up, be calm. This is Professor Snape and he can smell fear. Just help him with his essays and leave, you idiot._  
  
"Well?" Snape said darkly, breaking her encouraging thoughts. She winced at the loudness of it in the quiet office. Her chest was tight, her heart thumping and she prayed he couldn't hear it.  
  
"Sorry," she said, her eyelids fluttering as she tried to remain focused on the paper under her hand. This was becoming so very hard. She felt the sweat starting at the top of her head, and her cheeks were burning.  
  
Snape said nothing in return, instead going back to his own marking. She viewed absently that his spidery handwriting was almost covering the page of the essay. The poor boy was sure to get an earful tomorrow.

 

“Are you here to assist me or to gape at me, Miss Granger?”

 

Snape’s tone was dismissive and irritated. Hermione quickly darted her eyes back to the parchment in front of her, quickly picking up on several factual errors.

 

They had been working an hour before Hermione started to relax a bit. She nibbled her lower lip a bit absently, her quill headed for the inkpot, just as Snape’s was.

 

Their eyes were on their work, their attention elsewhere when their hands crashed into one another.  

 

Snape’s quill sliced into her thumb absently and Hermione hissed, pulling her hand back and squeezing her thumb tightly.

 

“Let me see.”

Snape’s voice broke the silence, holding out one pale hand in wait. Hermione felt her heart begin to hammer and gingerly placed her bleeding hand in his.

 

“ _Tergeo.”_

 

Hermione watched as the blood began to seep back into the wound, barely noticing for all she could truly focus on was Snape’s surprisingly warm hand cradling hers.

 

When the wound itself began to seal she finally looked up into his face.

 

“Thank you, Professor.”

 

Snape nodded adroitly, his dark eyes surveying her face. She could tell he wanted to get into her mind and so she closed her eyes tightly, imagining a large door to keep him out.

 

“Why are you really here Miss Granger?”

 

His voice was low and silken and Hermione couldn’t help but notice that his hand was still holding hers gently. His thumb absently slipping along her knuckles.

 

“I wanted to help you,” she offered in a soft tone. She felt she could barely breathe. “You do so much for others and, well, I suppose I wanted to show you the same courtesy.”

 

She knew it sounded lame out loud but she realized with a dawning observation that it was true. She did want to help him and she did think he deserved it. Harry and Ron may think him a suspicious git, but here as she sat across from him with her hand in his she couldn’t help but observe an inner softness.

 

“I see.”

  
She was about to back away then, to leave and apologize for bothering him on a night he was obviously busy. She idly wondered how she could call of this stupid bet with Pansy as now her feelings had grown a bit more complicated towards her normally surly professor.  
  
All of these things were ringing in her head, as he slowly brought her hand up towards his face and pressed his lips in the center of her palm. It was a slow, languid movement that Hermione for a moment, wasn’t quite sure had happened.  
  
All the senses in Hermione began going off, her eyes still open as she watched his dark eyes meet hers. She knew she was staring at him with her eyes large and frightened. And without another word, he'd captured her mouth with his. He pulled her up onto his desk roughly, dragging her limp form towards him and then wrapped around her, kissing her deeply, sucking at her and crushing her lips against his own.   
  
_What the holy hell?_

Hermione mind screamed as his kiss deepened. Tingles ran all over her as her own arms lay at her side while the forceful Potion's master wrapped his arms around her and kissed her with vigor.   
  
he hates me...he's supposed to hate me...  
  
She hadn't been expecting the tongue that slid between her teeth and played about in her mouth, and she suddenly was thankful she had eaten those peppermints beforehand. He himself tasted of chocolate...dark chocolate.   
  
_How fitting..._  
  
His grip on her was stronger then, he pressed her to him roughly and she could faintly make out a bulge rubbing against her stomach, and while this excited her, it also scared her to death. She wasn't used to this at all. His hand traveled to her breasts then, cupping them and worrying the nipple through her clothing as she involuntarily flinched. This is now how she had imagiend it would be. So rough and commanding and...detached.   
  
This wasn�t right.

It was frightening to realize that this man may want her. To know what his mouth felt like on her bare skin. She suddenly stood, backing away from him as he stood. He raised a quizzical eyebrow as she spoke.  
  
“I have to go,” Hermione offered in a strangled voice. “I don’t want to be caught after curfew.”  
  
Before he could say one word in that charming voice of his, Hermione threw open his chamber doors and ran back to her own room as fast as her shaking legs could carry her, leaving Snape standing and looking after her.  
  
---


	6. Managing to Confuse

A tall figure made his way to the Slytherin common room under the hidden security of an invisibility charm. He mumbled to himself about something along the lines of favors, and suddenly stopped in front of a familiar portrait.   
  
"Dragon scales."  
  
The picture swung open, letting the figure in looking a bit confused. Pansy walked across the empty common room, pacing and looking quite nervous to boot.   
  
The man under the spell grinned, and moved closer to her. She looked up suddenly, hearing something...her head tilted to the side as she tried to pick up a foreign sound.  
  
Nothing.  
  
She had been pacing in the common room for a good hour now, her hands nervously wringing behind her back as she tried to look calm. She was failing miserably.   
  
Suddenly she felt arms wrap around her stomach and she let out a shrill little squeak. The arms let go instantly, and a familiar chuckle greeted her from nowhere.

_“Evanesco!”_

Whirling around Pansy let out a relieved sigh.

"Draco," she breathed.

Draco Malfoy nodded, and let the cloak fall to the floor. His blonde hair would have shone brilliantly in the light that came from the fire, but his hair was black at the moment...and greasy.   
  
"I can't believe the things you ask of me Parkinson," he said growling playfully, nudging Pansy with his elbow, he saw Pansy blush and he rolled his eyes. "Gads, I hope you're not this obvious with the real Professor Snape."

Pansy's blush deepened as they both retired to the green couch behind them, Draco winced as his body hit the sofa. He wasn't used to being this tall.

"Damn this couch." he said in his darkest Snape voice, noticing as Pansy became quite interested.

"My...you can even do the voice well," she said breathily, looking to him in a new light. Draco internally rolled his eyes.  
  
"Thanks so much for agreeing," Pansy said gently patting his arm, "I know it must have been difficult getting Snape's hair for the Polyjuice potion."

"Not at all." came the voice of Draco, from inside the darkly seductive body of one Severus Snape.

“Really?”

"Well he is my Godfather after all," Draco drawled, biting into a piece of candy on the table. Pansy was looking to him with an unreadable expression. "But that wasn't the hard part."  
  
Pansy looked to him questioningly, her eyes narrowed. "How do you mean?"  
  
Malfoy rolled his eyes, "Kissing a Mudblood. Honestly. If my father were to even hear about this," he trailed off, looking sudden somber.

Pansy nodded, trying to take the attention away from the awkward subject.

"How did you do it?"

Malfoy grinned now, very proud of his craftiness. "I passed Granger going to the dungeons tonight and so I ran ahead to see my Godfather."

Draco smiled evilly at this, "I suggested that Snape leave for his nightly rounds early, as I thought I saw something in the Hufflepuff sector that may demand his attention."  
  
"That Susan Bones," Pansy commented dryly as Draco nodded and went on.   
  
"And so I changed and simply baited a certain Gryffindor with something she couldn't resist."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Being helpful." Draco smirked, "I made it seem like I was overwhelming with marking and that twit of a girl came right over to assist me."  
  
Pansy clapped her hands in disbelief, and then suddenly to her chagrin the handsome Draco-Snape that was once before her was melting back into just plain Draco with that damned smirk on his face.  
  
"So?" Pansy said eagerly, wanting to hear how Hermione had humiliated herself.  
  
"So, when she was helping me I kissed her hand," He added on afterthought, "quite seductively."  
  
Pansy looked to him in shock, "Draco, I don't want Snape fired."   
  
Draco laughed out loud at this once, "Right. Like the Mudblood would turn in her Prince Charming.  That’s why I didn’t go much further than a kiss to her hand. You should have seen her face when it happened. She was in shock. If anything she's too afraid to tell."  
  
Pansy smirked; this would definitely give her an advantage. She could practically see Hermione running from Snape in the halls from now on. The bet was hers.   
  
Score one for Slytherins.   


***  
Hermione herself was still in her chambers, tears streaming down her face as she lay on her bed.

This was all a big mistake. Kissing Snape wasn't anything like she thought it would be. It was rough and mean and so emotionless.

_That_ _’_ _s what happens when you deal with Slytherins. You always end up getting roped into things you regret later_ _._

All thoughts that Professor Snape was really just a prince in disguise were shattered with that one, meaningless kiss. She had been waiting for fireworks. for that feeling in her stomach she read about.

Nothing.

All she could remember was feeling repulsed as his slimy tongue had clumsily been poked into her own, very unwilling mouth and his hands had prodded her breasts. Damn him.

It had been nothing like she hoped. Nothing. And she was furious with herself for romanticizing the man.

She felt the tears welling up in her eyes once more, and she looked to the clock beside her bed.  She didn’t know why she had muttered that nonsense about curfew when she still had an hour to go.

Perhaps a trip to her favorite place, the library, would help her to get her head together.

She pulled on her robe lazily, leaving it hanging on her shoulders and walked out into the inky blackness of Hogwarts school.   
  
  
  
The Library lights were still on when she arrived, and she weakly pushed the door to it open, quite exhausted after all the events of the evening.

"Evening Madame Pince," she said to the sniffling woman to her left. Pince gave her a small nod of acknowledgement and went back to her typing.

Hermione made her way over to the section she had left off on her last trip, and looked to the long rows, trying to see something she liked.

She didn't notice the dark figure that strolled next to her a few feet down, looking with that same intense look at the mountain of writings.   
  
Hermione so engrossed in her searching that when she did find the book she wanted and reached for it, the other pale hand that reached for the same book took her completely by surprise.

She looked angrily to the perpetrator and then jumped back as she recognized him. Professor Snape. The mad kisser. She held the book in her hand, her knuckles turning white.

"Miss Granger," said the silken voice looking to her distastefully.

Hermione frowned at him, looking suddenly to his dark eyes and feeling her entire body trembling at the close proximity.

_I’m supposed to be repulsed._

"Hello Professor," Hermione squeaked, looking to him and feeling her heart beating madly. She didn’t know where to look or what to say, but he was standing there looking to her expectantly.  So she croaked out about the first topic that came to her mind.

“Did you manage to finish those essays?”

He looked suddenly uncomfortable at the sudden change of topic and raised a dark eyebrow, obviously perplexed.

"Essays?"

Hermione felt her stomach drop. So, he wanted to pretend that nothing had happened? She felt her anger building.

“I can only assume that my notes were of no use to your marking,” she retorted.

Snape was looking to her quizzically, "Pardon me?"

Hermione looked to him indignantly, "You know perfectly well what I'm talking about Professor Snape."   
  
Snape was getting rather cross now himself, his hands were suddenly on his hips as he glared at her.

"You had bestetter watch your tone Miss Granger,” he murmured silkily, “or I shall take points off."

"Points?" Hermione shrieked out of nowhere, her face growing red and her hands shaking and the free one curling into a ball.

"You think I care about points afte-"

"Shhhhhhh!" came the furious hush of Madame Pince, standing a few feet from them.

Hermione and Snape both looked to her and felt like small children being chastised.

Hermione took one final chance to glare at Professor Snape before throwing the book at his feet and proclaiming, "You want to pretend like nothing happened? _Fine_."

She left the Library with a livid and shaking Madame Pince telling her that her Library privileges were revoked for an entire month.

But Hermione didn't seem to care, as she was already halfway through the door of the Library, leaving Snape gaping after her, the book still at his feet.


	7. Once a cheater always a cheater

Pansy was feeling pretty good about herself the next morning, the November sky was brightening to leave a beautiful glow on the light snow on the grounds of Hogwarts. She herself awoke feeling refreshed and so very excited at the day that lay ahead of her.  
  
She wondered aloud what Hermione was going to say to Snape. She'd had a most delicious dream with him as the star, and every part of her tingled with excitement at the mere seeing him at breakfast. Those fingers, that smirk...

  
After getting ready in an anticipated, mad dash she made her way down there to the Great Hall, humming happily to herself, the braid was gone, but the meek demeanor and the book still remained.  
  
The strange looks appeared soon after she got into a busy hall, some children passed her, looking to her face strangely. Pansy sighed, evidently they were getting used to her no look of no make up. She frowned, she didn't know she had looked that bad.  
  
Some Raveclaws came up next down the hall, only fifth years and as Pansy strolled past them with her pug nose in the air. They glanced at her face a moment and began bursting into laughter as Pansy furiously sped up.  


Her heart was pounding and it felt as if her throat was closing, What was happening? Why were people laughing at her?   
  
More students now were whispering as she passed, surreptitiously pointing at her. She felt her face grow hot as more and more students looked to her head strangely.   
  
Suddenly a first year Slytherin came slinking over, his eyes alight as he smirked at her, "Perhaps you should go to the loo."  
  
Pansy lifted her head in pride and shoved the little bugger out of her way. He let out a loud stream of laughter along with some other twits as Pansy rushed down the hall now, waiting for the laughter to stop.  
  
Where is the Lavatory? Where? Why do these blasted staircases have to move in th- Ahhh...there it is...  
  
She rushed into the girl's lavatory, rushing past the students that milled about washing hands and doing hair. They took one look at the bewildered Slytherin and quietly left. When the last one had left, Pansy summoned up enough courage to go to the mirror and look to her forehead.   
  
CHEATER  
  
To Pansy's utter shock and horror, the word, "CHEATER" stared back at her, a glaringly red beacon from her forehead. How could it be that red?  
  
She gasped, and grabbing a nearby paper towel, dipped it in water and began to furiously scrub at it...of course it didn't come off...of course it was because of that stupid know-it-all! She tried a few more attempts, even with magic to take it off...this only seemed to make it burn brighter.   
  
She growled furiously, smashing the mirror into millions of pieces as she stepped out of the lavatory, looking like a mad woman.   
  
She ran to the Great Hall, her once meek demeanor gone and the real, rage-filled Pansy Parkinson in full gear. She pushed open the doors roughly, not caring who saw. Her squinty eyes scanned the table until she saw who she wanted, covering the mark with her hand she ran.   
  
"GRANGER!" She screeched, running down the long aisle of the Gryffindor table where Hermione sat looking rather sullen. At Pansy's sudden appearance she looked rather taken aback.  
  
"Good morning Pansy." she said attempting to be polite and looking to Pansy's hand covered forehead confused. Pansy was in a fit hysterics.  
  
"GRANGER.HALL.NOW."   
  
Pansy grasped her wrist with her free arm and practically dragged Hermione out the doors of the Great Hall. Harry and Ron shot each other quizzical looks. What the hell? Hermione and Pansy being well could you call it civil?  


Outside the hall Hermione and Pansy were in the middle of a rather whispered speech, save for Pansy's irrational wailing every now and then.  
  
"But Draco wasn't even assisting me," Pansy wailed, "He was doing it out of his free will. You're the cheater!"

Hermione wanted to laugh in the girl’s face, but not out of pride. But out of relief. So it hadn’t been Snape that had kissed her and treated her so roughly. It had been Draco all along! While this definitely inflamed her fury, the thought that Snape was not the same brute as the night before made her want to laugh in relief!   
  
Instead of giving into her joviality, Hermione instead gave Pansy a leveling look.

 

"Just because he said it doesn't mean he meant it Pansy. The scroll can't be that easily fooled. You cheated."

  
Pansy glared, her teeth bared now. "Take this spell off of me Granger."

 

"Not until you admit you're a cheater."

Pansy frowned, "I am not a cheater. I’m a Slyther-"  
  
A large figure suddenly swooped up beside them, prior being hidden in the shadows that awaited every student when they went down the halls of the school.  
  
"Problem Granger? Parkinson?"  
  
The two girls' eyes went wide as they jumped a bit and looked to Snape in mute horror. What the bloody fuck was he doing here? Hearts pounding wildly at the thought of almost being discovered they did the only thing they could do at a time like this. Lie.  
  
"No sir. No problem." Hermione said stammering, trying not to look guilty. This was a large obstacle to overcome as Snape stepped closer to them, looking down on them over his long nose and sneering.   
  
"I find that hard to believe, as Miss Parkinson appears to have quite a large message written on her forehead."   
  
Hermione and Pansy blanched as Snape peered at Pansy's forehead, reading it and then looking back over to Hermione who shuffled uncomfortably from foot to foot.   
  
"Anything to say for yourself, Miss Granger?"  
  
Hermione glared at him, "And what makes you think it was me?"  
  
"Five points for your cheek," Snape snapped, his dark eyes narrowing to capture her own,

 

"After your abysmal behavior in the Library yesterday, Miss Granger," Pansy shot a look at Hermione about that comment but Snape didn't seem to notice, "i fully believe that you are the guilty party in all of this. So, either give me an explanation or you shall suffer the consequences."  
  
And so he stood then, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he glared down at Hermione, almost daring her to say anything to incriminate her. Pansy didn't appear to be speaking up, and Hermione admitting to the contract would only prove to ruin three things:  
  
1.) Her reputation.   
  
2.) Her Gryffindor pride.   
  
3.) Her chances of getting into a good magical University after they found she had been expelled in her seventh year.   
  
So, with Snape staring down at her and Pansy frowning at the thought of expulsion Hermione did the only thing rational and fair to all parties involved.   
  
She lied.   
  
A big, horrible unbelievable lie.   
  
"You see sir," Hermione said looking to him in that familiar dodgy way she had when she was telling a falsehood. "Pansy and I were, you see we made a contract about...our marks. Our O.W.L. marks.”

  
Pansy nodded to Snape emphatically as he glanced at her to attest to this monstrosity of a falsehood. Hermione unnerved continued on, her face glowing at the prospect of getting off scot-free.  
  
"Pansy is always commenting on how she says that Slytherin are so much brighter than Gryffindors. And well, I disagreed evidently. So, I told Pansy that I would make a contract."  
  
The lie became more and more elaborate as Hermione explained the outline of the academic bet, her eyes darting back and forth as if reading the line from a cue card in her brain. This was a look that reminded him foggily of her first year confession about trying to single-handedly defeat a mountain troll. He hadn't believed her then, and he certainly didn't believe the codswollop she was feeding him now.   
  
"And so then I thought Pansy cheated on her last test, and, well the rest is history."  
  
Snape wasn't moving as Hermione finished with gusto, Pansy looking to Hermione in impressed awe. Hermione herself fiddled with her cloak as Snape continued boring his look down on her.  
  
_What am I to do?_  
  
Hermione decided he must be looking at her in that furious manner because he had embarassed one from his own house. So, with a flick of her wand pointed at Pansy's head the word describing her all too well was gone, but Snape's stance and glare remained.   
  
"Well, I'd better be going," Pansy said awkwardly, making her way into the hall, stopped instantly at the silky purr that met her ears when Snape decided to grace them with a little speech of his own.  
  
"Stay right there, Miss Parkinson."  
  
Pansy sighed and turned, nodding to her head of house emphatically.

 

"Yes sir."  
  
"I don't know what the two of you are up to," Snape said darkly, "But I suggest it end right here and right now. I haven't time for these little rows and I doubt any of the other Professors do either."  
  
Hermione and Pansy nodded, heads bowed in shame but secret relief. He wasn't yelling, but that dark undertone to his voice seemed to be worse. Almost like a jellyfish; you felt fine at first but sure enough, you'd have that stinging feeling later.   
  
"So as sixth year role models I suggest this foolishness stop. Whatever it may be." a warning glance was shot at both of the hung heads, "And the next time you decide to make a bet Miss Parkinson, I suggest you decide on a more easily won venture."  
  
Did he just call Pansy stupid? Or was he calling her smart? Was that a compliment? No. Before Hermione could actually compute all of this Snape was glaring at her again and her body went numb as she looked up. Pansy darted out of his gaze and into the Great Hall, her legs feeling like jelly. Hermione made an attempt to follow her in, but was stopped by Snape's arm blocking her way.   
  
"A very entertaining story, Miss Granger," Snape sneered scathingly, "But a very deplorable one indeed."   
  
Hermione gulped softly, alarms going off in her head, telling her to run and to most certainly not look into those hypnotizing eyes of his, but nothing listened, not even her body which was growing more sensitive to his mere smell and almost touch. The body that felt the need to move closer, but thankfully did not.  
  
_Stop looking at me!_ Her mind screamed, begging him to look anywhere but her increasingly reddening face. She couldn’t find the words to say, not that she could have anyway, as he mouth felt dry and filled to the brim with cotton balls.   
  
Snape peered at her face then, finding her look to be quite uncharacteristic. What happened to the level headed girl that had been so quick to come up with answers? Who was this blushing mass of curls in front of him? He scanned her face for the first time. What was she wearing on her lips? Gloss? She didn’t make herself up for anyone. She didn’t care about her looks at least she hadn’t unt-  
  
His stomach lurched.   
  
No.   
  
It couldn’t be.  
  
The blood rushed everywhere, and that meant everywhere much to his shock as she looked to him with a blush rising on her cheeks.  
  
Gads, the little twit was blushing because of _him!?_   
  
She couldn’t be. She’d always been a know-it-all, always trying to out do everyone, he had been sure she was trying to show him up sometimes; not that she had. And now she was standing in front of him, much taller, much more reserved, and much more confident She was a woman.  
  
He was breathing rather heavily himself now, blinking a few times before standing upright and looking to her almost nervously? Hermione could only focus on his chest as he did so. She willed herself not to look at his lips, or his eyes; those were her Achilles heel.   
  
“Good day.”  
  
With those two words Snape swung around and strode off to his office, with Hermione watching after his tall, blackened frame. He was striding more quickly than usual, refusing to look back and meet her imploring eyes. Those eyes that were suddenly burned into his mind, surely never to be erased no matter how hard he tried.   
  
And he intended to.  
  
---


	8. Because you Liked it

Snape rushed to his chambers then, his wind whirring at what had just transpired. She couldn't have been blushing because of him, could she?  
  
_Yes. She had._   
  
He groaned softly at this, rushing into his chambers and feeling quite disoriented. Admittedly in the back of his mind he was flattered. She was quite a brilliant girl, and in his opinion not completely putrid looking,  
Not that it mattered.   
  
He disliked her immensely, for reasons he knew he had but couldn't quite remember at the moment. He knew he disliked her for her acquaintanceship with that ruddy dolt Harry and his sidekick Ron. Hermione always seemed to be shoved to the back, the brilliant sidekick of Harry-bloody-look-at-me-Potter.  
  
Miss Granger to him always seemed neutral, all the Professor's knew she would receive top marks, be accepted into any wizarding school she wished and would go on to be satisfied with her life.  
  
Part of him was actually a bit envious. He too had been brilliant when in his youth, gads that was forever ago. But Voldemort and his pledge to Dumbledore. The death of Lily. So much lost.

He frowned deeply, running a hand absently through his dark hair. He couldn’t get caught up in that now. He was still a Death Eater. He still had a job to do. He couldn’t muddle around with some schoolgirl with a passing fancy.

_It’s likely all a joke. What would she want with you anyway, Snivelus? Just like Lily wanted nothing to do with you._

Snape could practically hear the jeering of James Potter resounding in his head and it caused him to grow stiff with fury.

Now that he thought about it, he was starting to dislike Hermione Granger quite a bit; her know-it-all attitude in every class. Her inability to lie well. Adored by everyone and for what? Surely not her personality! And now here she was, playing with him. Or so she thought. That passing notion sent a confused shiver that nipped at his lower abdomen.  
  
No matter. He would deal with it in his own brash, cruel way.   
  
He looked out the window of his chambers then, frowning more deeply than usual. He was not up to face the fact that Hermione Granger, part of the golden trio, princess of Gryffindor might have a crush on him.   
  
* * * *   
  
"Wrong again, Miss Granger," Snape said swirling past her as the whispers continued, "The answer is Inferni."  
  
"But sir," Hermione said frantically, sitting at her desk with her quill perched in her hand, "That’s exactly what I said."  
  
A raised eyebrow and a sneer awaited her last comment.   
"Are you insinuating that I don’t know my own ears, Miss Granger?"  
  
Hermione didn’t answer, the room got suddenly very very quiet. Hermione felt like crying, and felt the tears welling up in her eyes. She didn’t answer verbally, she felt that familiar lump in her throat as her eyes grew itchy.  
  
For the past two weeks ever since Hermione had that horrible encounter with the surly Professor he had been increasingly cruel to her. At first it was things like knocking things out of her hands as he rounded the corner and blaming her, telling her she hadn’t been looking where she’d been going.   
  
This had escalated to Hermione having points taken off when Snape had caught Ron and she laughing about something at what he described as at " _an astonishingly loud decibel_."   
  
Hermione had shrugged this off. She had told herself it couldn’t possibly get any worse. She casually played off the sneers, the glares and the hurtful comments. But now? Now he was getting worse, he was being unfair in the field that mattered most to Hermione; her education.

He was making her out to seem idiotic, claiming she said things she hadn’t, telling her not to be so stupid when she asked questions none of the  others had the courage to.  
  
Now, at this exact moment Hermione wanted to shrink, she wanted to die right then and there. She knew he and the rest of her class were awaiting her comment. It was one thing to have one gaze on you, but forty was a much different thing. It was worse when the person being completely cruel to you was a man you’d just realized you cared for deeply.   
She finally just shook her head.   
  
"I trust there will be no further interruptions," Snape snapped glaring at her over his shoulder, "Now that Miss Granger has proven herself as inept as the rest of you, what branch of dark magic are the Inferni created from?"  
  
"Necromancy,” Pansy said without raising her hand. Snape looked over to her, an eyebrow raised in obvious surprise, he was obviously impressed though.   
  
"Very good Miss Parkinson," He mumbled, nodding to her and then looking back to the class.

"Perhaps if any of you had read the last chapter you’d have caught that as well."   
  
Everyone looked to Hermione, who was looking to her hands in obvious anger and shame. Why was he doing this? To her of all people? She did her work, she wasn’t late, she tried her hardest and always, always this unfairness.   
  
The class ended soon after, Hermione in a sudden gust of inner strength stood, gathering her things and slowly made her way to the front of his intimidating desk. He sat behind it, already marking papers for the classes the next morning.   
  
He didn’t notice her slow trepidation to his desk, her eyes no longer watering but looking rather glassy. She noticed how his eyebrows furrowed when he really concentrated, and when she noticed another low mark making its way in his cramped scrawl across the paper she coughed to get his attention.  
  
He made no acknowledgment of her of any sort, and so she stood there dumbly a moment before turning, preparing to leave. She heard him give a heaving sigh before his silky voice made its way over to her.  
  
"Well, what do you want?"  
  
Hermione turned around and walked to his desk shakily, a short but effective mantra ringing in her head she approached him, his beetle black eyes on her pale face.

"Professor Snape, " she said clearing her throat after as he winced, "I know you’re busy but I wanted to address something that has become somewhat of an increasing occurrence."  
  
She saw as he froze, not looking to her immediately. "And what would that be Miss Granger?"  
  
"Well, you see," Hermione said, dropping her large bag beside her on the floor, "I know that you’ve never really tolerated me very much, whether it was my answering questions or my company but I believe that I’ve matured a great deal in that time."  
  
"Does this lagging tale have a point?"  
  
"It does indeed sir," Hermione said, teeth clenched and aggravated that he had interrupted her in the first place.

“I don’t see why you’ve being so cruel to me lately. First it was the points taking, and the glaring, then the calling me stupid and trying to get me to live up to my new title today. I just, I don’t see why you’re doing this. "

  
Snape didn’t answer very quickly which was strange, as he was a man of shrewd wit, which came quite quickly out of his mouth, and usually offended whomever it was directed at. But now, the man she had feared for so long was actually looking sort of dodgy.  
  
"I’ve had every reason to be."

He finally sneered his response, his dark eyes glittering dangerously. Hermione licked her lips out of habit, noticing the way his eyes flicked to those lips and back up to meet her eyes.   
  
"Have I done something to cause extreme offence?" she asked worriedly, "because I honestly don’t see why-“  
  
"Well I don’t suppose you would you silly little gir-" he muttered miserably as Hermione cut him off, her hands on her hips and a spark of fury in her dark eyes.   
  
"I am not a silly little girl," Hermione said outraged, her outburst echoing around the almost empty Defense classroom, "I am a grown woman."  
  
Snape snorted at this.  
  
Hermione looked up at him suddenly very much appalled. Had he just laughed at her? At her comment about being a women? She was passed offended. Now she was just damn right pissed off.   
  
"How dare you," She said just above a whisper, "What gives you the right to say whether I’m a grown woman or not? I’m almost eighteen years old, I’ve been awarded early acceptance into any Magical University I want, I am a grown woman Professor Snape whether you wa-"  
  
"Stop. Stop now. Get out," Snape snapped, pointing to the door and now standing himself and moving towards her to shove her out of his office. His hand landed on the back of her shoulder as he tried to guide her to the door.   
  
Hermione whirled around as they reached the door, pushing his hand from her and glaring at him openly. She was backed up against the wall, and suddenly began to grow very dizzy. Her rehearsed speech suddenly forgotten and all that remained was a hurt ego and a flaming desire inside.  
  
"I am a grown woman, Professor.," She was almost growling now, and Snape looked to her with a tight grimace, "And if you don’t believe me," she suddenly licked her lips again, "I suppose I’ll have to prove it to you."  
  
Snape should have been expecting what would come next. All the signs were there. Her speech alone should have directed him. The licking of lips in anticipation. But he didn’t.   
  
Perhaps it was because he had known her as reserved but brilliant student, perhaps it was because she was so young, and perhaps it was because she seemed so very furious at him.

Perhaps it was a culmination of all of these things that mislead his mind, but when Hermione Granger planted a very steamy kiss on those long been chaste lips of his, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her back.   
  
He wanted nothing more than to scoop her up in his arms, place her on a nearby desk and ravish her until the sun came up the next day. And so he did the next best thing.  
  
He kissed her back.   
  
She pressed up against him and kissed him with lips that seemed perfectly fitted for his own to capture. If his mind had been processing properly, and he wasn’t in a state of drowsy lust he would have seen this grave error. He would have pushed her from him instantly, he would have yelled and deducted points.  
  
But instead he stood rigidly, only his lips betraying him. Slowly his tongue tentatively slipped out of his own mouth and into hers, circling hers as he felt his lower abdomen give off a flash of pleasure inside. Suddenly he felt his body betray him; the first sign he was losing absolute control and when she brushed up against his throbbing cock, her hands flew from his shoulders and her lips broke from his own as she stumbled back looking to him in shock.  
  
"Oh," she stammered, looking to him wide eyed, wiping her lips in shock "I should g-“

She didn’t even finish her sentence before she had turned and bolted out of the door, never looking behind her.   
  
* * *   
  
She knew she should feel ashamed and angry at herself, but Hermione couldn't keep that smirk off of her face. Her fingers trailed over her lips as she felt them tingling still.

Who knew such a miserable git would kiss like that?   
  
Hermione shrieked, pulling a nearby pillow over her face, until her face was flushed and she was giggling like a mad woman, jumping up on her bed.   
  
_I just kissed Professor Snape! And it was perfect!_  
  
She fell on her back onto the bed, looking to the ceiling. Funny. She always thought if something like this happened she would berate herself, be angry at her lack of control. But now, in the midst of a drowsy post-steamy kiss the only thing Hermione Granger wanted to do was rush back down to that classroom and have Snape sh-  
  
She blushed, giggling again. That had been the kiss she had wanted. The deep, intensity of it. The respectful way he hadn’t groped at her as Draco had when Polyjuiced as Snape.

 She wished she could tell Ginny, or even Pansy! Anyone! But that would just be stupid. This was a good thing though, the contract would only ever disappear after one of them shagged the Professor, and evidently none of them had. It wouldn't tell if one of them had one, innocent little kiss.   
  
Not really innocent mind you.   
  
More giggling and goosebumps ensued and finally Hermione stood, bright eyed and suddenly finding that she wasn't nervous about anything, not about her exams, not about the fact that she still hadn't bought Christmas presents, not at the fact that nothing mattered, all that mattered was...Him.   
  
Everything told her to stay away from him then, he was going to be furious in class the next day. The mere thought of that even turned her on.

Snape, staring at her, glaring...as she smirked...somehow even that was sexy to her now. The guilty thought began then to perhaps even confess to Dumbledore her actions. But she didn't. She wouldn't. She wanted to kiss Professor Snape again.   
  
Not that she ever could.  
  
* * * *  
  
_Fuck._  
  
He surely hadn’t meant to have an obstacle like this pop up - perhaps not the right choice of words at the moment.   
  
Snape was sitting in his private chambers, his shades drawn as he sat in his large armchair, in agony as his now obvious erection strained in his now too tight black trousers. He refused to touch it.   
  
What the holy hell had she gone and done that for?   
  
No, more precisely why hadn’t he stopped her? Yes, that was a much better question. Why hadn’t he stopped her?

                   

 _Because you liked it._   
  
Yes it was true. Snape had been the object of many young girls lusts through his years of teaching, yet he never really understood how he ever became such a thing. Minerva claimed a few years back at some staff party, something about him having the _bad boy thing_ going on.   
  
Now while this seemed a good reason to Snape he also recalled she had consumed far too many glasses of butter beer to be making too much sense. No, clarity was not something a drunk Minerva McGonagall was known for.  
  
He frowned, a crease in his forehead evident then. He wondered what had made her kiss him.   
  
Hormones.   
  
Definitely.   
  
Surely he hadn't been asking for the attention. Honestly, he'd followed through with his usual plan of attack when it came to lusting young girls like Hermione Granger:  
  
1\. Be cruel to them until they stop liking him.   
  
And if that didn’t work:  
  
2\. Blatantly ignore them.  
  
Perhaps that would be the trick; ignore her. Brilliant. That was precisely the thing, ignore her until she gets the hint and goes away. Even if he did kiss her back, he’d claim it was a mistake; he had one too many firewhiskey’s before class was all. He’d ignore her and then he’d never have to put up with her again. She'd leave him alone and he'd be able to get on with his life, not having some little twit mooning after him.   
  
There was only one problem with this little plan;  
  
What if he didn’t want her to stop?


	9. A Tad Obsessive

_Hermione raked her hands over his bare torso, grinning to him as then moonlight washed over her naked body. He groaned softly, pure lust shining in his dark eyes, taking her all in. Suddenly she darted under the blanket and all he saw was the ceiling to his own chambers. He looked up to it from under hooded eyes, wanted nothing more than for her to kiss him right_ _…_ _.there_ _…_ _Oh gods_ _,_ _yesss_ _,_ _that was a the spot.  
  
Snape_ _’_ _s back arched as her full lips kissed his throbbing cock, that warm breath on him as he writhed at her touch under the blanket. Slowly she moved downward, that perfect warm heat sliding up and down his length as he growled thrusting upward.  
  
__“_ _Yesss_ _,”_ _he moaned roughly as his eyes squeezed shut and all he could feel was her and her delicious swirling tongue inside that for once not blabbing mouth_ _,_ _no that mouth was going to much better use indeed._   
  
Snape hadn’t really ignored Hermione to as much effectiveness as one would have hoped.

 

He had decided to be rather blasé with her, trying not to appear interested and not wanting her to be so hurt that she ran off to Dumbledore.   
  
Today Snape had been nonchalant, and when he sent all his sixth year Gryffindor and Slytherins to work using non-verbal spells he had made his rounds, inspecting all the students make sure they were paying attention. Which most of them weren’t.  
  
Up ahead he had seen Hermione’s usually bossy movements, ordering Potter to do something different with his wrist when casting and evidently doing what had been asked of her admirably, no doubt trying to squelch the rumors that she was becoming daft. Damn that pride.   
  
He had taken a deep breath and made his way over to where she worked with her hair over one shoulder. He watched from behind her, making sure not to make her nervous as she wrote something hurriedly in her notebook. Something about the spell they were working on.   
  
He had lingered around Hermione for what seemed to be far too long. In reality it couldn’t have been more mere moments but due to the fact that he couldn’t get that haunting scent of her hair out of his senses he now decided it had been too long.   
  
So was the case of him lying there in his bed, wanking himself into oblivion all because of one stupid girl.  
  
No, no wait they had this talk before.   
  
That stupid woman.  
  
* * *   
  
Several weeks passed, and Hermione promised herself that she and Professor Snape would act as if nothing had happened. Pansy hadn't mentioned the bet lately, and frankly that was all too fine with Hermione.   
  
That day after the kiss in Defense class had been truly horrible. He had ignored her blatantly, and she still had blushed like a mad woman. Hermione Granger was not good at being discreet.   
  
She hadn't liked the look accompanied with his stride past her either; much too snake-like to be taken as sexy. More he looked like the said creature, ready to devour its next victim. Her. Hermione shivered.  
  
If she hadn't kissed him it wouldn't have been an issue. But that one 'innocent' little kiss had sparked something in the both of them that should have stayed dimmed. The moment their lips met something indescribable passed through them, coursing through their veins and refusing to leave them.   
  
Her nights were filled with thoughts of him, which was so seemingly adolescent to her, she had hoped years of crushes and gossip had finished when she had become a Prefect. Prefects most certainly did not kiss their Professors.  
  
That she knew of, anyway.    
  
Snape had been ignoring her though, so much to the point of humiliation. Take for instance yesterday in the Hall. Hermione had been making her way to eat lunch with Ron and Harry.   
  
Snape had been coming up from his seat, evidently done his dinner quickly and trying to rush past Hermione, in a vain attempt to not make any contact with her, verbal or physical. She saw his cheeks acquire the smallest dash of pink on them, and she spoke then, hoping to break the icy uncomfortable bridge that had   
  
"Professor Snape," she said as he came closer to her. She saw his dark eyes flick to her, emotionless and then just as she began again he brushed passed her, leaving her quite embarrassed as the whole Hall had just witnessed that humiliating scene.

  
Pansy smiled quite openly at the blushing Gryffindor, but feeling uneasy. Snape certainly hadn't been looking to her with looks like the ones he'd been shooting Hermione while her back was turned. No, Pansy was losing and hating every moment of it.   
  
Hermione had rushed to the table, her cheeks scarlet and with giggling and pointing going on all over.  
  
"I don't see what the big deal is," Ron said miserably, "Snape ignores everyone."  
  
It was hard. She couldn't tell anyone about her undying affections, she was growing snappy but her grades didn't drop at all. If there was one thing she was dedicated to, it was her schoolwork.   
  
Seeing Snape every week was hard though. He never looked to her, and that just about killed her. Everything told her, _'This is good, he's not paying you any attention....he's forgotten about the kiss and so can you...'_ But the other part of her screamed, _'Just look at me dammit!'_  
  
So she had in turn decided to ignore him back. If he was going to act like a baby about that one stupid kiss then fine. She wished she hadn't done it in the first place.  
  
Lie.   
  
It was stupid to think that he could have ever cared for her even a smidgen, that his kissing was anything past basic animal lust, for Hermione was sure he had been shooting Pansy quite amorous glances over the past few weeks after that stupid kiss of hers. But he had responded to her kiss hadn't he? Time had made that memory foggy.   
  
In the end she was certain of one fact, even though it killed her; Severus Snape was never to be hers.   
  
* * *   
  
He saw her walking into the Library a few nights later, and felt his heart beating like a jackhammer. He frowned at his idiotic internal actions and with a deep breath he followed her.   
  
It had taken him almost a month after that stupid kiss to actually feel the harshness of ignoring her. At first it had been easy. He'd let her answer one question a day and then ignore her constantly, at meals in the hall and any time in between. It had been successful, the 'hello Professor' comments about in the halls as she passed him had stopped, the small smiles in classes- all were gone, and all that remained was a rather wounded looking Gryffindor who ignored him just as bad.   
  
Oh, another corner.   
  
Encased in the shadows around him he walked slowly, matching her steps as she walked ahead of him, humming to herself   
  
So the stalking had begun. No, stalking was much too harsh a word. Perhaps, he just happened to be in the same place as she was every night, following about ten yards behind without her knowing he was there.  That didn't constitute as stalking did it? She was student, he was merely looking out for her welfare.   
  
On Monday she had taken a stroll on the grounds of Hogwarts quite late at night. He had contemplated giving her detention but assumed that would only prove to give him more time to lust after her, alone and vulnerable.   
  
The next Monday hadn't been much better; she had decided on reading in the Library. Now just how was he to watch her then without suspicion?

 

He had to cast an Invisibility spell over him, sneak in with her and stand by the wall, watching her read. She was always sure to have the place to herself.   
  
It was a fascinating thing really, to watch Hermione read. She always had the same ritual. Grab a cup of tea, two lumps of sugar, one small drip of milk and stir three times before opening the book. It was often large and halfway done. She would grasp a blanket, throw it around her shoulders, turn on the fire in front of her and place her bookmark from the said beside her. She would then start reading, a contented smile on her lips and small giggles bursting through at humorous parts. The most intriguing thing he found was when she was start running her fingers through her hair, often grasping a small curl and twisting it around her finger, over and over again almost making Snape dizzy.

 

The reading would go on for at least two hours, during which time Hermione would have finished her drink, and would then quietly close the book. His legs would be cramped and his eyes bleary but he would watch her leave for her bed chambers before rushing out of the common room.   
  
The Wednesday after that Hermione had decided to retire to bed early, and this time he did not follow her. Following her to her bed chambers would prove to be his undoing. Watching as she changed, showered even, damn that hard on was back with a vengeance.   
  
Now it was the following Thursday, this had been going on for over a month. The surreptitious looks, the breathing in of her perfume when she walked by. It was sick. It was an obsession. Wuthering Heights kind of obsession.   
  
Oh, there she was...the Library doors.   
  
The Library was dimly lit, and she made her way into it with ease, Hermione's library privileges being finally reinstated. He still didn't know why she had been acting so strangely, but he had a feeling it was something very Slytherin. The back of her hair and her cloak were the last things he saw as she entered, the door shutting lightly behind her. Snape took a deep breath.  
  
_I shouldn't even be here...she's a student._  
  
He walked closer, making sure he was silent.  
  
_She's young and innocent...very innocent._  
  
Perhaps that's what drew him even more. That one kiss had shown him a side of brainy Hermione Granger that he didn't know existed. And one he liked immensely. He was an Death Eater after all, and perhaps that was what drew him to the innocent. Something so very far from what he himself was.   
  
He had imagined her millions of times with him, doing things to him, which he had hadn’t experienced in a long while. It wasn’t as though he wasn't inexperienced in the field, although it had been a long time. (Pansy had been right about that one.) He just hadn't the patience or the time to care for anyone.

 

He certainly didn't care for Hermione, he often argued with himself. He was simply intrigued.   
  
He had stood in front of his mirror earlier that night, looking at himself and wondering what she could ever see in him. He wasn't that attractive really, with his hooked nose and greasy hair.  Not charming at all, was really quite mean. Did girls go for that? Was he just seen as the bitter old Professor in need of good quality shagging? Was it pity?  
  
Perhaps.   
  
Now he was there in the Library, all prior reasoning thoughts gone with a whooshing of the doors opening and then closing behind him. He slipped past Madame Pince and quietly turned the corner slowly, his breath catching in his throat as he saw Hermione's back, by the stacks and looking with detail for something.   
  
He ducked back behind the bookcase that separated them; his eyes shut tightly as he went over and over in his head something to calm him down. He could barely breathe.

 

He, Severus Snape Potion's master, Death Eater, afraid of a little gir-woman catching him.    
  
She moved then, shuffling and eyeing the spines of the books. Hermione felt the distinct feeling she was being watched, and quickly darted her head around.   
  
Nothing.   
  
Snape slunk further back among the stacks, still watching her through the openings of the book files, his dark eyes very intently upon Hermione Granger and her search for the perfect novel. Slowly that hand found a stray curl and began twisting it deliciously around her finger. His own hands slid slowly down the front of his trousers, not sure that they were alone in the Library he massaged himself through the confining fabric, his eyes trained on her.   
  
She yawned, placing a hand to her mouth and he felt his own go dry. He felt himself going rigid and he knew what he was doing was so very wrong; watching her and on the brinks of pleasuring himself, a grown man.   
  
Slowly she raised her hands above her head, stretching as he bit his lower lip gently, trying to conceal the moan that was threatening to spill from him. The bulge in his pants refused to go away, no matter how much he tried to calm it. Every move she made was turning him on beyond all belief.

 

Perhaps it was the mood, the fact that he was spying on her and touching himself, the fact that they were in a public library and could be caught at an-  
  
"Severus?"   
  
Snape darted away from his spot, stumbling and backing into a large stack of books which came tumbling all around him. He picked them up slowly all the time looking to a squinted Madame Pince.

"What are you doing back here? It's so dark I don't imagine you can see much."  
  
Snape looked to where Hermione had been but saw to his immediate relief, she was gone.

 

“Nothing," he stammered, hoping his robes concealed the excitement that felt like a pole sticking out of his trousers, "I was just leaving."   
  
Blushing wildly he left the Library, his dark hair hanging all about his face like a curtain. He didn't run into Hermione on his way back, and he was thankful. All this trouble to follow her, all this trouble to watch her...  
  
That one kiss was proving to be the death of him.   
  
* * *   
  
Hermione lay on her bed some nights later, looking to her side table as she was lying on her side. She looked neither sad nor happy, but more wistful and thoughtful. Soft piano music floated around her, classical. She shifted then, not really sure of what she was feeling.  
  
It was one of those things that wriggle into your stomach, eat whatevers there and leave this gaping hole, one that you think it because you’re hungry but really there because you’re lonely. Sadly you’ve probably already eaten a bunch of cookies and ice cream before you’ve figured it out.   
  
It was that exact emotion that had greeted Hermione when she returned to her chambers a mere hour before. She had come back from walking with Harry, taken a short hot shower, crawled into her welcoming pajamas and tumbled onto her bed. Dinner hadn’t really agreed with her, and now she was lying on her bed and doing the worst thing a lovesick girl could do.  
  
Pining for her Romeo.  
  
Why? No one bloody knows why! Hermione Granger was a strange young, brilliant girl with an obvious penchant for older, bitter, darker, brilliant men. And who in life hadn’t been in that position? No one really knew why Hermione liked him, probably because the only other ones that did know were; Pansy, Millicent and Blaise, not the most ideal confidantes.   
  
She squirmed on her bed, suddenly growing cold. She looked to the fireplace that still burned but still felt a cold, goosebump-y feeling suddenly invade her. She slipped under her comforting covers and sighed deeply. She thought she heard something, but imagined it was probably just Crookshanks.   
  
She had sighed then, rolling onto her back and pulling the covers over her again. She turned the music and lights off with her wand, laughing a bit at her laziness. She couldn’t help but have her mind turn to Professor Snape. Now, even she herself didn’t know why she was suddenly even more drawn to him. Did she enjoy being verbally abused daily? Perhaps she was a becoming a masochist? No that couldn’t be it.  
  
Because today like any other day for the past month, he had been...Nothing. No words were exchanged, no glances caught. The only thing was why?   
  
It was most definitely was not because of the kiss. If anything she was getting off easy. She still didn’t really know what had come over her that day, honestly. She blushed at the memory when she had felt that spark. And when he had kissed her back in that smooth, expert way of his, she had indeed felt the fluttering in her stomach. Rapture. That was the only word she could think of for that exact moment.   
  
She felt herself becoming aroused at the mere thought of his lips, and her hands slowly traveled downward, circling the hardened nub between her slick folds. She began to stroke herself gingerly, her mind firmly on Snape’s mouth from so long ago. She felt her nipples poking painfully against her shirt and her thighs opened as if welcoming a phantom lover.

 

“Professor,” she moaned, praying none of her classmates would walk in. Though it was early and the chances of that happening were slim. “Oh Professor Snape…Faster…Harder….Oh, oh please…”

 

She wanted him so badly she ached for him. Her fingers began to slide along the hardened nub faster and faster. Her head falling back as she arched into her own hands, imagining all at once that they were his.

 

Moments later she was sweaty, gasping with a pleasurable feeling flowing through her lower abdomen which she assumed sex felt like. She still didn’t know herself.   
  
Sleep seemed like the only probable matter then, even though it was only seven on a weekend. Pulling up the covers over her chilling body she fell into slumber, a deep one that greeted her with open arms almost instantly.   
  
When her breathing had deepened and slowed he knew he was moderately safe. He emerged from his hiding place. He tried not to make much noise as he stood, looking at her in her sleep.   
  
Her mouth was slowly parted as she breathed, and he noticed it was a rather tasty looking berry color. Her face was pale in the darkness, only the moonlight washed over her sleeping frame and his dream was suddenly thrown back at him. This was wrong.   
  
He ran from her chambers then, making sure not to wake her.   
  
To be fair he hadn’t really meant to be locked into her chambers. He had simply been waling past the Gryffindor common room and poked his head inside. To make sure there was no mischief about.

 

He couldn’t help that he’d felt the need to go up into her rooms. The door happened to be open a bit. Evidently she had planned on returning shortly.   
  
He hadn't been following her that evening, instead he’d merely been walking by to see if he might catch a glimpse of her to remember and have aid him later that night.   
  
And now, a wash of nervous excitement went through him as if he'd been splashed with a bucket of ice water. Curiosity tugged at him like invisible string as he felt himself being almost internally pulled to go into her room.  
  
_This is really for her own safety_ , he told himself over and over again, stepping closer to the barely open door, Perhaps someone broke in. Perhaps the girl was in danger?   
  
He had dashed in quickly, making sure no one saw him and leaving the door open only an inch as before. He immediately felt out of place in the red and gold room, standing in the warm palette of colors with his black and white figure.   
  
It was quite disorienting, going into someones private quarters. He saw her in every inch of it though, from the books that stacked as high as the ceiling on the large bookshelf and that strange S.P.E.W. button she’d placed near the mirror. His dark eyes had settled then on the bed and its crimson sheets. He walked over to it, running his lean hands lightly over the material.   
  
It didn’t occur to him at that time that this was quite obsessive, that he was in her room because of some sick fantasy and a stupid little kiss in his classroom. All of that seemed so irrelevant to him though as he surveyed her room; its tidiness and how mature she was compared to most of the young girls here at Hogwarts.   
  
He had done bed check often, and much to his chagrin Slytherin girls although known for their cunning were not known for keeping their rooms very tidy. Clothing was always littered on the floor; makeup ground into the deep green carpeting. Many cleaning charms and speeches later, always the same awaited him. He had simply come to the terms with the fact that teenage girls were a messy lot, but not this one. Then again she wasn’t really a young girl anymore was she?   
  
The vanity set that contained only a hairbrush and a bottle of perfume caught his eye then, his own pale reflection staring back at him as he made his way over. He peered closer to it then, entranced by the beautiful looking perfume bottle. Taking it into his sculptured hands he felt the smooth glass under his fingertips. He rose it to his nose as that familiar light scent went right into his nostrils and through his body. That same perfume he had inhaled today and well, the rest didn’t need to be said.   
  
He had just placed it down and was about to leave; suddenly feeling quite out of place and rather rude when he heard her returning.   
  
"I’m a bit tired Harry, I’ll see you later."  


Panic clutched him, how would he explain his presence? He could surely deceive the Dark Lord with a well placed lie, but thinking of one at this moment seemed impossible.   
  
_Well, you see Miss Granger, the Headmaster delegated that I should survey all the chambers of students…_  
  
No no, that was bloody pathetic, and oh bollocks, her footsteps were coming closer now. He couldn’t apparate within Hogwarts (thanks a lot for that one, Albus) and he realized he didn’t have enough time to Floo. The only choice he had was… under her bed.  
  
"Boys," Hermione muttered darkly as she slipped into her room and locked the door, Snape internally sighed.  
  
_Just bloody perfect._  
  
He only saw her calves and downward as she entered the room, her stride rather slow and thoughtful.   
  
Her skirt had dropped then and he felt himself almost gasp at this in shock, thinking it as inappropriate. Which was pretty stupid considering it had been he himself who had just snuck into her room, rooted around in her personal belongings and dived under her bed in fear when he heard her coming. If that wasn’t inappropriate for a Professor he shuddered to think what was.   
  
It was also a stupid thing to think because it was Hermione’s personal room, and she did believe she was alone, although she probably would have been more that eager to find an over certain zealous Professor under her bed. Although she would have most certainly preferred him inside it.  
  
Snape’s throat grew dry as he lay on his stomach, legs halfway curled as he stared at her bare calves and feet with absolute rapt attention. Suddenly buttons were undone as were straps and suddenly a white shirt, tie and lacy white bra felt to the ground at her feet.   
  
“So much for being tidy,” he thought darkly amused trying to take his attention off of the fact that this was all too erotic to be real. Truth be told he was now resting on what felt like the largest erection he had ever had and that included his prominent one from earlier this evening.   
  
Hermione’s wistful sigh and bare legs left the room as the door to her bathroom shut. Snape heaved a sigh of relief as he prepared to make a dash for the door. He was halfway out from under the bed when he saw the door swinging open.   
  
Snape hurriedly pulled himself back under the bed before the door had opened fully, suddenly thanking the Gods above that he was fairly agile. Those legs of hers were back\ and now sprinkled with water? Oh Gods  
  
Hermione giggled, tossing her cat out of the bathroom lightly. "Behave yourself Crookshanks."

 

She said lightly, closing the door once more. Snape sighed deeply, much too close.   
  
Snape’s eyes went wide, his heart pounding. He had forgotten that mangy piece of fur but evidently it hadn’t forgotten him. Crookshanks back arched, looking to Snape with glowing predatory eyes.  
  
The cat was coming closer, hissing now and Snape prayed the shower would be enough to deter Hermione’s hearing for the moment. He tried to swipe at the cat, but it simply leaped out of the way, still trying to claw at Snape.  
  
Oh no. Snape thought miserably, looking to the blasted cat in front of him. He felt a sneeze welling up in him. What was he going to do? On a normal basis Snape took an allergy potion of his own making, it was most effective. He was quite allergic to cats. But of course, on a day when he planned to see no students and spend the day in his dungeons, why would he take it?  
  
There was the only word with enough of a magnitude to express the apprehension he was currently being consumed by and it rang through his head over and over. He felt the overwhelming urge to sneeze and managed to suppress it. There. Only a bit of watery eyes, what was the harm in that?   
  
Oh bollocks.   
  
That damned cat was coming closer. He felt a sneeze welling up in him, and he tried to hold it back, the cat coming all the while closer. Damn, the water was stopping in the bathroom. Stupid 'Crooksy' or whatever she called it was slowly darting nearer, seeing the pain it caused on the man under the bed.   
  
That was it, the moment that Snape knew was coming. His eyes squeezed shut and a tremendous sneeze burst out of him, it was loud and thundering and he felt his whole body jolt at the force of it.  
  
For a moment they just stared at each other, cat and man, eyes widened in terror. Snape went deathly still, wondering if Hermione had heard him -no screaming- and then back at that damned cat that was causing all of this in the first place.   
  
The cat in a moment of pure shock of being sneezed upon and with such a loud noise and force suddenly arched, hissing at Snape, clawing at him as Snape tried to escape by slapping at it and finally Crookshanks dashed out the windowsill, yellow eyes gleaming at Snape angrily once more before it leaped onto the roof and out into the night.   
  
Snape finally pulled one arm out from under the bed, preparing to leave immediately as if some cruel twist of fate had decided Snape would be its main patient, the door to the bathroom swung open once more as Snape crawled under the bed again, feeling quite miserable and angry now. He wanted her to just go back into the bathroom so he could slip out....this was agony.   
  
But she wasn't, she was pulling on her nightclothes not knowing of the aroused Professor hiding under her bed and entranced by her lower legs, all that he could see for the moment from his position. He heard her sighing, and he felt himself growing sleepy at the current moment...the warmth of her room, the sound of the music...it was all making him quite groggy.   
  
When she leapt up onto her bed and turn off the lights he was sure she would fall asleep within moments and he could slip out silently, no one the wiser. He was still lying still on the ground under her bed, hearing the springs squeak as she got comfortable. Gads..she was on top of him...sort of.   
  
Suddenly a hand fell beside his cheek, he could made out its outline dimly in the dark. A familiar thudding was happening in his groin at the sight, and he willed it down.   
  
He heard her shuffle again once more, he assumed now on her back. Images flooded him as he shut his eyes tightly, telling himself he just had to wait until she was alseep. Just until she's asleep just unti-  
  
"Oh."  
  
Snape's eyes flew open at her sudden gasp, she knew he was here? He waited for her to scream out at him, to call for Dumbledore and have him sent to Azkaban. Could they do that? For spying on a student? All thoughts flew from him as she continued.  
  
"Oh...yes...right there..."   
  
She couldn't be.. Snape's mind whirred his eyes growing wider by the minute, all sounds above him indicated that she indeed was pleasuring herself.  
  
"Yessss," she hissed from above him, muffled by her positioning. Snape felt himself grow hard instantly, paining him as he lay on the ground. "ohhhh....Professor..."  
  
No.   
  
She couldn't have said his name.   
  
"Yesss...Professor Snape, harder....fas-....faster...oh Gods oh Gods.."  
  
Oh Gods was right. He tried to stop the ache in his nether regions, his mouth so very dry now. She was pleasuring herself and calling out his name, HIS name! Sure enough she had kissed him but now here, alone in her chambers.

 

Perhaps a small part of him had just believed that she had kissed him as a joke, never really meaning it, but now, alone and..  
  
"Faster...faster..."  
  
He tried to conceal a groan building within his chest by covering his ears as best he could with his cramped hands.   
  
The moans just grew louder as the bed around him shook lightly his name on her lips; his cock below was throbbing and aching for attention but he feared if he touched himself he’d explode. He tried to breathe regularly but was having a hell of a time.   
  
Finally he felt her spasm, muffling her cries, but he himself felt barely any relief. He was still pulsating below and shaking from pure want.   
  
That is what came of lusting after Hermione Granger.


	10. A Simple Complication

“Sod it all,” Snape was muttering, pacing around his chambers that cold night. Hermione. Calling out his name in the throes of passion. Passion he himself wasn't even physically included in! It was almost an insult...almost, but not quite. Why did he have to fall in lust with some stupid woman? A stupid Gryffindor woman?   
  
_What does it matter what house she's in?_ A voice sounded in him, he supposed it was reason. _You fancy her and she most certainly fancies you._  
  
Snape blushed slightly at this, which until lately had been rather unusual an occurrence for him. Why did he have to be consumed by this? This was so unlike him. What the hell had happened? Had he gone soft? No. His role as a double spy Death Eater was an obvious nod to his internal strength.   
  
He plain and simply desired her.   
  
It wasn't easy to admit. In fact the mere mention of this fact going over and over in his mind made him grimace. How childish. He looked to the mirror over his dresser once more, baring his teeth and noticing they could use a good scrubbing. Raking his hands through his hair and decided it could use a good brushing...and washing for that matter, with something other than a bar of soap. He turned to his side, smoothing down the bulge of his robe over his stomach and noting that for his age he still looked quite good.   
  
Gods, he was like a fifth year with a crush! Honestly! Pining over some young, smart girl. Just the kind he was interested when he was young. Some twenty years ago.  But she had turned him down and this beautiful, brunette woman? She _desired_ him!  Snape pinched the bridge of his nose with his tapered fingers, irritated that his reason was slowly leaving him.   
  
This wasn't going very well.  
  
* * *   
  
Hermione woke up the next day feeling rather chilly and she blamed it on the cold walls. But she couldn't shake the feeling that she had been spied upon the night before. She smirked a bit, feeling a bit pervy after her rather loud exclamations for her Potions Professor. But it had felt _so damn good_.  
  
She wondered what he was hiding when he swept past her quietly through the halls. That body of his had certainly felt firm under her fingers and that mouth had lead her on but, she did remember with a sobering countenance that he hadn't even touched her back.   
  
_Time to move on Hermione Granger_ she thought determined. _Time to stop the idiotic fantasies about older, darker men. You’re young and smart and he's probably not even that nice behind closed doors._  
  
She decided that Professor Snape would be a miserable beau. Not a romantic bone in that body of his. Sure, she bet he'd be a fantastic shag, but could you really base an entire relationship on that?   
  
She wished she could.   
  
She stretched and sat up in her warm bed, yawning and looking around at her things absently; the hair brush, clothing, make up, perfu-  
  
Wait.  
  
Her perfume bottle was turned the other way around. She always had the name of the company turned round so that only the bottle was shown and not its label. Now the silvery script for the perfume title was glaring back at her.

  
Someone had been in her room.   
  
No, that was impossible. Looking at her reflection she sighed. Big bushy hair, she was getting a bit puffy and now that she looked closer she noticed she was getting dark circles under her dark eyes. She sighed. How could anyone like her? Let alone fall for her?   
  
_A kiss is just a kiss;_ a familiar song rang through her head. What was the point in building it up more than it was? Snape was a man after all. A woman kisses him, he kisses her back. That was human instinct.  Besides, he'd been unnaturally cruel to her lately. The ignoring proving to be too much for her to bear these days.  
  
_Well ,Professor Snape you want to ignore me? Fine. I most certainly don't need you!  
  
_ It was stupid to dwell on the kiss. He obviously did not harbor the same feelings as she had for him. Besides, Seamus had been shooting her some very interested looks lately...no point in passing up a chance to make Snape jealous.  
__  
No. Not make Snape jealous. Just try to move on. It’s time to move on.

She jumped from her bed, nodding and moving to the shower. It was best to forget about Professor Snape. She just needed to forget him.   
  
Good plan.  
  
* * *   
  
Late December had rolled around now, many students going home for the holidays. Snape was of course was not and neither was Hermione. Her parents had informed Hermione that they had agreed to go away with her grandmother. A trip to Ireland, she recalled. They had invited her, but she had turned them down resolutely. She hadn’t wanted her miserable façade haunting them as they went from place to place.   
  
Hermione was moving on, ignoring Professor Snape and giving Seamus quite the signals, her flirting moving a notch up from subtle. It had gone from gentle smiles and passing laughs to seductive smirks and tossing of hair.   
  
Snape saw all of this.   
  
Detentions were handed out, most usually by him. Some swore he seemed to be on the lookout for something, someone. Whoever got in his way was branded with detentions as he was on the prowl. He was bitter and he was frustrated.   
  
_Perhaps I should just give her detention_ , he thought pensively one afternoon as two Hufflepuffs went sheepishly by _, I'll just get her alone, we can talk and perhaps more. No. Stupid plan._   
  
Ever since that night under her bed he had not only been ignoring her more, but came to the distinct realization that she too was ignoring him. That Finnigan boy was only the icing on the proverbial cake. It was stupid to get mad about it, he had asked for it himself. But now he was miserable, more than usual. No one wanted to be near him, all avoided him in the halls. He was even more a pariah than usual.   
  
Snape hadn't been back to Hermione's room, in all honestly that night had unsettled him. There had been something dark and delicious about her moaning of his name. Although sometimes the temptation to go back proved to be too much, he denied all instincts to do so. But that didn’t stop him from skulking around her dormitory corridors.   
  
Take for example, mere moments ago.  
  
He had been walking past the Gryffindor dormitory, slowly, very slowly. His quiet steps moving along the  cold stone floor, waiting and waiting for a familiar scent or sound. As soon as he’d had that, he would be sure to leave.  The fat lady in the portrait was snoring loudly, making him strain for any sound that indicated she may be there.

He was greeted with nothing.   
  
He sighed darkly, internally berating himself when suddenly the portrait slipped open slowly, only an inch at most.   
  
_No Severus_. _Leave._

  
Snape ignored the reason that seemed to be popping up at the utmost annoying times. He slipped closer to the entrance, his dark eyes trained on the pale fingers wrapping around the frame.    
  
_Just one little look. One little look upon her face and I'll never have to go back again._  
  
Yes. That was fine.  He knew he was deluded and yet he was slinking closer, the sounds from all around suddenly dimming, his eyes just looking to that beckoning hand. He didn’t know how, but he knew for certain it was her. It was her on the other side of that door and Severus was desperate to see her.   
  
Suddenly the portrait door whipped open fully and Severus Snape got the full blow of it. It bashed his forehead harshly, and his eyes fluttered briefly a moment before he crumpled to the floor at the top of the staircase.   
  
He believed he had died when all he saw was darkness, he felt quite sad about this state of events, he had hoped to do a bit more things before his unlikely demise. He had wanted to defeat Voldemort, write a book, kiss the Granger girl again.   
  
"Professor?"  
  
Ahhh, her lovely voice was calling out to him foggily even through his death.  
  
"Miss Granger," he murmured, a small smirk playing across his pale face as he reached up into darkness and felt a small burning cheek under his palm before suddenly hearing the awed whispers and barely concealed giggles.   
  
His eyes suddenly flew open.Gads, he wasn't dead! His eyes blinked and Hermione couldn't help but notice his lovely eyelashes. Blinking rapidly he heard the giggles of students and he looked above him; students from the Gryffindor common room had heard the commotion of Hermione screaming,

“Oh God Professor! I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you!”   
  
When he had touched her face Hermione felt electricity shooting all around her. She pulled back, blushing and watching as he glared and drew himself up at full height, looking around at the students around him angrily. All laughter stopped and eight very frightened Gryffindors ran and left for their common room.   
  
Hermione looked to Snape awkwardly. What was he doing there? Was he there for her? No, she shook her head internally knowing that this was not to be.  She was searching for something to say to engage him in conversation. Why did she still care for him at all? Wasn't it supposed to have been just a crush? Were you supposed to care for someone this much when it was a little schoolgirl crush?   
  
He parted his lips as if he were going to say something brilliant, something that would make her forget all the icy ignoring that they had endured. Something had sparked between them that they longed to rekindle, but were too afraid to approach, his lips snapped shut and his dark eyes were met with brows.   
  
"Good evening."  
  
He had stormed down the hall as if the hounds of hell were nipping at his feet. Hermione felt her heart sink and was about to retire to her rooms when she heard a familiar tone.  
  
"Hermione?"  
  
"Ah," Hermione said, turning around and forcing a smile, "Seamus."   
  
* * *  
  
Just bloody brilliant," he muttered to himself, a dark curtain hair swinging about in his face as he stamped down the halls to the Slytherin common room deciding that he needed to retrieve something from his office. Truthfully he wanted to hide out there for as long as possible to shake the shame that plagued him after that embarrassing display upstairs.   
  
Upon his entering the room Pansy, with hair in disarray and book neatly on her lap felt her heart beat unnaturally quickly. He was here! She quickly licked her lips and mussed her hair, hoping for a sexy look. He wasn't really paying much attention to her, instead rushing from the door muttering to his office and slamming the door.   
  
_So much for the bet_ , she thought glumly, looking back to her book. In most truth all this book carrying had proven to be much more work that intended.  It was fine and all for looking like a boring bookworm like Granger, but it was rather annoying other than that.   
  
One fifth year had come up to her, asked her the properties of some random plant and waited for her to reply eagerly. When Pansy had given him a look of complete obscurity the boy sighed and referred to the Herbology book she was carrying. She had to make up some lie and raced off to the common room, where she had been residing alone and waiting for Snape.   
  
When she heard the door slide open and her ears perked up and she gently re-arranged the tea set sitting on the coffee table before her. Snape’s long ragged sigh was the first sign that he was alone and weary. She looked casually over her shoulder, hoping she looked seductive and smiled to him. He didn't see her, obviously engrossed in his own misery.   
  
"Are you alright, Professor?" Pansy asked him loudly, her feet tucked underneath her as she sat poised with a book, and looking so very, Hermione-ish. This mere fact drew his attention to her and he offered her a bored glance.   
  
"Fine, Miss Parkinson,” he replied tersley looking to the door, Pansy knew she had to act fast.   
  
"Oh really," she said trying to stifle a nervous giggle, what was it about that man's eyes that did that to her? Now they flitting about her face, waiting for her to continue, "you seem downhearted."   
  
Snape didn't answer immediately, instead opting to gauge this answer. Finally glancing to her book and back to her face he replied in a cool tone.   
  
"I'll leave you to your reading."  
  
_Noooooooooo! He can’t get away!_  
  
"No!" Pansy said eagerly, and then blushing as she saw his raised eyebrow, "I'd love some company. So many people have gone home for the holidays; would you care for some tea, Professor?"  
  
Snape's frown deepened a moment, an internal struggle within him. He had no interest in sharing any of his frustration. Pansy Parkinson was a Slytherin student and a bad one at that. But he was her head of house and she had certain connections. To ignore her would mean the news would reach her father and subsequently Voldemort. He had been warned on more than one occasion that he was to be raising a group of promising Slytherin leaders. To ignore her would be to welcome the ire of the former Tom Riddle.

To have tea or not to have tea? That was the question...finally with a defeated sigh he placed himself lightly on the couch, a large gap between them and replied, "tea would be tolerable."

Pansy internally shrieked with delight, quickly pouring him a cup of tea and pushing it towards him dutifully. She looked up to him with bright blue eyes shining. He took it quickly, shaking his head at her proferred pastries.

Snape was distracted, that much was obvious as he raised the glass to his lips and took a deep sip, hoping to end this awkward experience.  Normally this lack of attention would upset Pansy, but tonight it was perfect.

“Professor I have so been enjoying defense classes this year,” Pansy cooed gently scooting herself closer to him on the sofa.  “It’s so wonderful having a teacher who _really knows_ what he’s talking about.”

“I’m glad you find it sufficient,” was Snape’s cool reply. He took another languid sip of the tea, enjoying the soothing bitter flavor she’d chosen.  It felt nice to enjoy a bit of peace and quiet, even a bit of reverence from the girl at his left.

“Here,” Pansy insisted when she saw he’d finished his tea, “have another cup.”

“I really should be going,” Snape replied, ready to stand when he felt Pansy’s hand on his shoulder. He looked to the girl in surprise and she pulled her hand off of him quickly looking sheepish.

“Please sir, just one more cup,” she implored. “It’s so nice having someone to talk to.”

Snape nodded gently, feeling a bit sorry for the girl. He knew her parent and how brutal they were to her and her siblings. So he agreed, taking another warm cup from the Parkinson girl and drinking deeply.   He couldn’t help but feel rather relaxed now, warmth suddenly spreading to the rest of his body. He felt his head fall back a bit onto the sofa, enjoying the warmth as it cradled his head.

He was so used to being tense, to being on guard. To sit here and be taken care of felt… remarkably grand. So relaxing that his muscles felt as if they were unwinding, his body growing heavy and drowsy.

Wait.  

He didn’t usually feel like this after a cup of tea. And the realization at what was occurring came to him too late. The Parkinson girl had spiked his drink; how obvious.  His guards so normally presented and up at all times were gone and it was all thanks to that Granger girl distracting him.

Pansy looked over to her Professor, so obviously bleary that she grinned.  He was practically enveloped in the plush green sofa. His eyes half-open and his mouth starting to slack as he glanced at her with an almost accusatory gaze.  

Perfect.

She quickly moved from her side of the sofa, knowing that Snape wouldn’t be able to do anything in the morning. She had been given the most potent firewhiskey in all of Hogsmeade and by the time she was finished with him, he would be fired before he’d be able to punish her.

She crawled onto his lap, straddling him and pulling on the buttons at his throat. His arms attempted to push her off, to stop her ministrations, but appeared to be too weak. Instead they fell from the air and landed on her now bared thighs unable to move.

“Oh Professor,” Pansy simpered with a grin. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

She lowered her mouth to Snape’s , kissing him soundly as he groaned under her. She convinced herself it was from lust but she knew better. He was trying to refuse her, and this incensed her. She kissed him more deeply, her tongue probing his mouth.

“I know you want me,” Pansy insisted, ripping his shirt open aggressively and pulling his limp hands to cup her breasts. “I’m a Slytherin, I’m calculating like you and I’ve been wanting to fuck you for ages. And willing or not, I’m going to get what I want.”

Snape groaned again, trying to pull from her but feeling as if he were sinking underwater. What had the girl given him? She began to unbutton her own blouse, looking at him with a playful grin. Then he could feel her hands slipping between their pelvises, wrapping itself against his traitorous cock that grew under her practiced hand. He was ashamed at this, closing his eyes against the physical onslaught.

“Just give in,” she murmured against his ear, “I want this so much. I want _you_ so much.”

Snape could feel his resolve melting as she said this. The words he longed to hear from Hermione herself and yet, eluded him. This pert woman on his lap was offering him everything he wanted and while his body responded in a purely biological fashion, he couldn’t help but feel extreme reluctance.  And yet, who else would want him?

She captured his mouth this time and was pleased to note that his will seemed to be crumbling under her lips and her hands.  She shrugged her blouse off of her shoulders, showcasing her pale body to his scrutiny. He closed his eyes again, trying to face away from her.  She knew he was fighting an internal battle and was more than eager to help bring him into the darkness of her side.

She was about to open his trousers when there came a small gasp from behind them. Pansy’s gaze quickly whirled around to the now opened door of the Slytherin common room. Someone had forgotten to put wards up on it for the holidays apparently.  

_Oh this is too perfect._

Pansy smirked over her shoulder as Hermione, Gryffindor Princess stood at the door to the common room, a small scroll in her hand.  


	11. Digging the Blade in Deeper

She stood just looking to the two of them a moment, her eyes welling up with tears as she viewed Pansy moving off of her provocative position on Snape and smirking to Hermione openly.   
  
Hermione saw Snape falter, a loss for words for once, he looked rather dizzy to be honest. His eyes squinted, focusing on her and losing his breath.

It was her. The object of his fantasy. His dark obsession.   
  
"Hermione" he uttered softly, not realizing he had just called her by her first name for the first time to her face, he tried to stand but couldn’t do so.  Pansy glanced over at her professor, suddenly profoundly turned off to see him looking so forlorn.   
  
Hermione didn't answer to him, but could only gape openly at the sight of Snape with Pansy on his lap. She had broken off her date with Seamus moments before, explaining that she wasn't over her last ‘relationship’.  

She had been coming up to talk to Pansy; she was coming to tell her that the bet was off. She’d brought a ripped contract to show her how serious she was. She was going to confess that she cared far too deeply for Professor Snape and that all this bet nonsense was only proving to push him from her. She had come up to explain that she was falling so very fast for Professor Snape that it felt almost unreal. Total inhibition.  
  
All that had shattered as she had burst into the room and saw Pansy Parkinson straddling Snape, her Snape and sticking that disgusting tongue of hers down his throat.   
  
She looked to his eyes; they didn't even seem to be his own. He was attempting to stand now, very wobbily and looking to her with utter uncertainty. What was he to do? He was her Professor after all, and Pansy Parkinson was not known for being discreet. The said bitch was sitting, arms crossed and smirking at the both of them. How typically Slytherin.   
  
"Hermione," he said again, blinking rapidly and staggering towards her. Hermione took a short glance and saw that Pansy had nothing telltale on her forehead. Snape had fallen for Pansy pure and simple without any magical aid.

She hadn’t been special, she realized with a thundering roar of humiliation sounding in her ears. She had just been _there._   
  
This simple fact let all the tears that had been pricking her eyes start to seep out, and rather than have pity from Snape and become amusement for Pansy,  Hermione whirled around, pushing the door back open and rushing back to her chambers, tears almost blinding her.   
  
Snape stood, his hands defeated fists at his side as he watched after Hermione's disappearing figure. Pansy stood and slunk over to him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as she nuzzled the back of neck.

“Shall we continue, Professor?”

  
* * *   


Hermione sobbed in the third floor lavatory that night, knowing that no one ever entered there. She sat there against the wall with tears stained on her face and her eyes puffy from crying. She wished she could stop, but it was truly impossible. Why did one person have to mean so much?  
  
She punched the stone floor beside her angrily, the pain inside of her never subsiding. She had been at it for a good hour now, running the taps to cover her sobs. She tried to read her favorite books in her bag, but too soon her eyes swam with unbidden tears.

She felt the ripped contract in her book bag and in a violent wrench she took the parchment and ripped it again and again until the stupid little nuisance was in a million pieces, like snow in her room. Then she threw it in the bin before she threw herself back onto her pillow and sobbed loudly, trying not to wake anyone in the rooms next to her.  
  
She imagined Pansy and Snape were shagging by now. Pansy would have managed to worm her way into his pants, easier than Hermione ever could have. He had practically gone frozen when she kissed him and yet Pansy had been there perched on his lap like some prized pig. Hermione shuddered at the humiliating memory.   
  
But that look. That look he had given her as she interrupted them. He seemed almost not himself. As if he’d been drugged. But no, the contract clearly stated that no lust potions were to be used. If she had used them, Pansy would be covered in _cheater_ brands.   
  
He had looked to her earlier this evening as if she meant something. And for one shining moment Hermione wanted to run to him as he cupped her cheek. She wanted to kiss him and say that she loved him and that she was sorry for ignoring him. She wanted to let herself go and feel him against her.    
  
But then she had seen him with eyes closed as he kissed Pansy back, practically taking her right then and there on that stupid Slytherin couch of theirs. Gods she hated that house.

Suddenly there was a boom as the door to the lavatory opened and Hermione's heart jumped. She didn't want to admit it but she wanted him there. Finding her and kissing away her tears.   
  
She smoothed her hair absently and wiping the tears from her cheeks she glanced up to the figure rounding into the lavatory and came face to face with a smug looking Pansy Parkinson.

  
"Hey Granger," she said viciously cheery, "Mind if I come join you?"  
  
"Actua-"  
  
"Great," Pansy insisted, joining her on the stone floor daintily. She surveyed the lavatory  and rolled her eyes at Hermione’s dramatics. "Strange place to hang out."  
  
Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, "I'm sorry Pansy, but what are you doing here, exactly?"  
  
"Oh, I've just come to tell you that I've won the bet."  
  
Hermione's eyes widened, she wondered if Pansy was telling the truth. She didn't have the contract to refer to. She berated herself for ripping it up. Although why should she disbelieve her? She had seen Snape groping her in the common room; that was more than enough proof.   
  
"You have?"  
  
"Indeed I have."  
  
Hermione nodded, refusing to cry in front of Pansy Parkinson of all people. Pansy was searching Hermione's face, looking for anything.  Knowing that the contract had been ripped up when the girl came to see. But the girl had been a good adversary and a fun one at that.   
  
"Oh don't cry Mudblood," she said soothingly, "You were up against a Slytherin after all. We're known for our craftiness."  
  
Hermione nodded, "I suppose you are."   
  
Pansy sighed, torturing wasn't half the fun unless the victim cared enough to get riled up. Stupid bloody Gryffindor. She knew Hermione cared for Snape, that had become quite evident. Bursting into tears and running from the room seemed to be more than enough evidence. And yet she wanted to dig the blade a little deeper in.  
  
"He said that he loved me," Pansy said grinning, "Isn't that marvelous?"  
  
Hermione was tight lipped, “I'm very happy for both of you."  
  
Pansy smirked more openly, "He was so different. You know? He seemed so happy. And Gods, what an amazing kisser...not to mention well...you know. I don't like to kiss and tell."

  
Hermione was looking to the floor only, refusing to meet Pansy's twinkling eyes. She almost wanted to laugh. This was all too easy. Suddenly a thought occurred to her.  
  
"Where's the contract, Granger?"  
  
"I ripped it up."  
  
Pansy smirked, "hmmmm, I guessed as much. Not that good a sport are you?" she chuckled meanly. “Ah well, I hope you do your best on my charms homework, Granger.”  
  
Hermione shrugged, biting her lower lip now. Pansy stood stretching dramatically.

“Well, I'd better be going," she said moving towards the door, then turning a bit to face the heartbroken Gryffindor. She stopped at the doorway shooting the defeated girl on the floor a saccharine grin.   
  
"Oh and Granger he did say one thing you might find interesting. You know, might explain why you lost."   
  
Hermione looked to Pansy warily, her curiosity getting the better of her. She gave Pansy an imploring look as Pansy answered.   
  
"He said he wouldn't be caught dead with a Mudblood."   
  
Hermione felt her heart sink, her eyes growing glassy as Pansy, feeling rather accomplished closed the door behind her and set off for her room. Hermione felt the emotions overcome her and she felt the dire need to throw up. She felt her stomach turn over and over, her throat burning _._

 _Damn him. Damn him and his looks of lust, damn him and that voice, and damn him and those misleading lips. Damn everything about him._  
  
She shook her head resolutely, she didn't need this. She rushed to the common room of Gryffindor and with a loud sob she entered into the Floo network. She found herself in a familiar room that smelled of reassuring perfume and cookies. Hermione Granger needed the one thing any heartbroken young girl needed.   
  
Her mother.


	12. An Unexpected Visitor

"MUM!" Hermione cried, bursting out from the living room hearth and into the kitchen. She realized it hadn't been cookies she smelled, it was the vanilla candles her mother was so fond of purchasing. She smiled, looking to her familiar surroundings and feeling that familiar safe feeling envelop her.  
  
She was home.   
  
Strange, her mother wasn't answering her straight away. Perhaps she and her father were outside on the patio. She ran to the said landing on the side of the house but found it empty. Her stomach sank as she realized that all the lights in the house were off, and the doors were all locked. Perhaps they had just gone out for a while, that was all.

 They'd be home soon.   
  
She dropped her wand and cloak in her room and took a long, hot shower, washing her hair at a luxurious rate she never felt comfortable with at school. After a towel drying her hair she stepped out of the bathroom in her small light blue nightdress and walked slowly to the kitchen.   
  
Her parents still weren't home. How she wished she could speak to her mum about all of this. About how it felt to finally be in love and then having ones heart dashed against the proverbial rocks. She would avoid the name of course, they knew of her surly professor. No, she would just tell them it was an older boy.   
  
She eventually made herself a small marmalade sandwich and poured a glass of milk, making her way into the lounge and turning on the telly. A strange Muggle show popped on and she lay back, feeling her crafty mind going slack as she succumbed to the inanity that was television.   
  
Not even a half hour later she had flicked off the telly, washed her dishes and brushed her teeth, and was now sitting in her library of the house and sipping some tea.   
  
She trudged back upstairs to put the milk away when she saw a blinking light on her answerphone. She'd always hated them. She may be brilliant, but technology had never been a passion of hers. She suddenly imaged Snape would hate technology as well.   
  
Hermione shook her head, _Fuck Snape,_ she thought, clearing thoughts of the said prick and moved her way over to the answerphone, pressing the sleek, black button and waiting.  Nothing. She had turned her back, cursing the moron who invented such a thing when a loud BEEP sent her almost jumping.  
  
" _Hey  Pam, Greg. I know you're on vacation, but Carl and I just wanted to thank you for your advice about Kenneth's braces. He was a little worried about looking stupid at college but_ -"  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes, walking away from the machine as it yammered on. Well, two mysteries figured out right there in that machine:  
  
One: Her parents were on vacation.  
  
Two: She wasn't going to let them ever set her up with Kenneth.  
  
She sighed lazily in the library of her house, looking at the various spines of the books. Finally deciding on a small collection of Edgar Allan Poe poems she retired to bed, determined to spend a few nights here at home and retire back to Hogwarts before winter break was over. At least she’d catch up on her reading.   
  
She turned off all the lights, locked all the doors and made her way into her bedroom, pulling back the covers and  flicking on a nearby lamp while she read a while.  It was so wonderful to be swept up into another world. It was so divine to be surrounded by lovely Muggle things that held no memories of Hogwarts or Snape or anything dark and depressing.

An hour or so later Hermione's eyes were growing heavy, and she placed the bookmark into the book and set it next to her beside her wand, turning off the light.  
  
She lay on her side then in the darkness, feeling so stupid for ever caring for the man in the first place. What was so bloody great about him in the first place? He had a hooked nose, greasy hair, a horrible temper; obviously a weakness for tramps. The list went on finally lulling Hermione into an angry slumber.  
  
* * *   
  
It was the feeling that something was brushing her cheek which broke her from her rest. She stirred a bit, hearing as the figure backed up and into the darkness. She shot up in the bed, someone had broken into her house! Where was her wand?

  
"GET OUT! OR I SWEAR I'LL KILL YOU!" Hermione screamed shooting up in her bed dizzily, groggy from sleep and throwing pillows at the intruder, while looking for her wand. Where the bloody fuck had she put it?  
  
"Stop it you silly little girl!"  
  
Hermione faltered with a pillow still in her hand as she blinked into the inky darkness, knowing who it was in her room, standing by her wall with that irrepressibly silky voice of his, beckoning her.  
  
"Miss Granger?"  
  
No. He couldn’t be here.   
  
Hermione sat up more stiffly in bed, scarcely believing that Professor Severus Snape was in her room, standing over and gazing at her, his hair rumpled from the pillows that had been thrown at him. He moved out of the darkness, his face closer to her.   
  
"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked in shock as she turned on her lamp at her bedside, her eyes widening with every step he took closer to her. "How did you  find me?"

 _Why did you bother?_  
  
"It wasn't hard," he said moving closer to her, his hand gently falling on the bed. She shivered suddenly looking to him uneasily. He looked so out of place in his robes and standing in her muggle room. He barely fit in her cramped room.   
  
"Get out," she suddenly blurted out as he shot her a look of confusion.

"Excuse me?"  
  
"I said," Hermione replied venomously, images of he and Pansy shooting through her head, "GET OUT."  
  
Her voice was so loud in the empty room, and Snape shot a precarious look to the door of her bedroom.  
  
"You needn't worry," she said trying to be aloof, "My parents aren't here."  
  
_Dumb thing to say Hermione._

She felt so very vulnerable and nervous all of a sudden. Sure, Snape had never tried anything before but she was starting to discover many things about the elusive Professor that she hadn't known before.   
  
"You're here, alone?" he asked silkily, his voice with an undertone of something foreign to Hermione. She nodded, not liking the way his eyes were trailing over her.  
  
"Yes. Now leave."  
  
"Miss Granger," he said trying to be dignified under the circumstances. He was standing in the rather _pink_ room of Hermione's looking to the new room of hers that he had intruded upon. Finally his dark eyes fell upon her, and she pulled the blanket up to her chin.  
  
"I have to explain."  
  
Hermione shook her head, "no you don’t,” she said shortly, rolling on her side as he frowned deeply, his pride obviously hurt.   
  
"Just listen to me," he said growing agitated. Hermione sighed irritably, sitting up on her knees on the bed, her blanket still wrapped around her.   
  
"No, _you_ listen," she sneered, taking Snape by surprise. "I have done nothing but throw my emotions on the table. I wanted to kiss you and I did. And what did you to with my   
advances?"

She shrugged as if asking him but she continued on unfettered, "YOU THREW IT IN MY FACE! You ignored me and then, then you go and..." she trailed off, angry tears streaming down her face.   
  
"I know," he said darkly, "and that’s what I’ve come to speak to you about."   
  
"Bollocks," Hermione said dryly, looking to him with angry eyes, "I don't know whether this is a joke between you and Pansy, or you’re just worried I’ll go to Dumbledore with my findings.  But I know it must pain you to be consorting with a Mudblood Gryffindor like me."

Snape looked stricken at her words, wincing almost at the word.   
  
"Pardon?"  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Pansy told me everything."  
  
"Miss Parkinson?"  
  
"Oh," Hermione drawled sarcastically, "How _informal_ for a woman you were shoving your tongue down the throat of. She told me you'd never consort with a Mublood. And as she did so after sitting on your lap only minutes prior I felt no need to argue with her about the matter."  
  
She decided to leave out the part where Pansy bragged about their superb shag, as Snape winced, rubbing his temples and then looking to Hermione with complete and utter earnest diplomacy.   
  
"Miss Granger. Miss Parkinson gave me a drink, laced with potent firewhiskey."  
  
Hermione nearly laughed aloud, "You're a former Potions master, and you couldn't figure that out beforehand?"  
  
Snape flushed, Gads this was humiliating. He was going to have to tell her everything. He shifted from foot to foot once more, licking his lips as he prepared to speak. He couldn’t believe how chastised he felt at this girl’s words.  
  
"I was in a quite a vulnerable position at the time."  
  
"Vulnerable?"  
  
Why did she have to talk this very moment?

"Yes. _Vulnerable._ "  
  
"Please, do elaborate."  
  
He saw the merry torment dancing in her eyes and resignedly he spoke.

 "I was sulking, because I had just seen you and that Finnigan boy gallivanting about. She offered me tea and I accepted. I didn't even realize the effects of the mixture until I sobered up a few hours ago." His eyes grew dim, "and then I came here."  
  
"Why were you mad at Seamus?" Hermione suddenly wondered aloud, why was he here anyway? She didn't trust it. He shifted from foot to foot, looking embarrassed.  
  
"I thought my motivations would have been rather obvious, Miss Granger."  
  
Hermione was shocked to find herself blushing at his words. Was he saying what she had been hoping he'd say? No.

Hermione suddenly felt the anger that had been bottled up for too long. Even though he had been sloshed and mad at her, all common decency should have stopped him from sleeping with a student...of all students Pansy.   
  
"Enough of this pity party," she said darkly, giving him a look of disgust. "Sleeping with a student, of all people Pansy Parkinson. I don't care if you were sad and jealous, its downrig-"

"I never slept with Pansy Parkinson," he interrupted through clenched teeth. Obviously aghast that she could say such a thing. He was a Professor after all. Seeing her like this all angry and callous was disturbing.

"That's not what she said," Hermione said lamely, Gods how stupid. Had she even backed up her argument? SHE BELIEVED PANSY? What the bloody hell had she been thinking? A Slytherin?  
  
"You took the word of a Slytherin?"  
  
Hermione blushed at his rather accurate point, feeling quite stupid now and thoroughly embarrassed. Him and his damn smug, superiority. It was irritating as hell. Especially when he was right.   
  
"Hermione," he said, his voice hitching on her name as he tentatively stepped closer, her features unreadable. "Evidently my...my feelings towards you are-"  
  
Hermione shot a look to him of utter confusion and anger, she didn't know if she was angry at herself or at him, but all she could see was fury and she did the only thing a defensive girl like herself could do. She retaliated.   
  
"Get out," Hermione said shallowly, and swallowing deeply she added "I want nothing to do with you."  
  
Snape stopped mid sentence, in obvious shock at her outburst. Hermione stopped facing him, rolling over onto her side and turning off the light.  
  
"You can leave the way you came."  
  
Why was she angry? He had told her everything. He saw her breathing shakily, perhaps even crying. He knew she was confused, and he was selfish to have even bothered her about this at all. But he wanted her. He'd never wanted anyone as much as he wanted Hermione Granger.   
  
And he'd have her.  
  
This wasn't a simple idea, it was a full blown obsession. He had to accept it would take time. Perhaps she would be better in a few days time.  
  
"Of course," he said stonily, moving towards the door. "Good evening Miss Granger."  
  
With a wave of his arm he had disappeared and the room was silence once more, although Hermione had the feeling that wasn't the last she would see of Professor Snape during her visit home.


	13. A small trip home

Pansy paced back and forth in the common room the next morning, looking to the shelves of books in the corner, sighing disgustedly and pacing some more. She didn't know when Snape had left, only that he had. Recently.  
  
The common room was empty as it was round the dinner hour, and most of the children had left for the Christmas holidays.   
  
The hearth was on, but still Pansy felt chilled. She felt she had colossally fucked up somehow when she told Hermione that lie about she and Snape. She knew it was wrong but she couldn't stand the thought of Hermione bragging about how she had outsmarted a Slytherin. Gads, the mere thought made her stomach lurch.  
  
She was sure Hermione thought she had cheated, but with the convenient absence in scroll, she had no proof. Plus, technically she hadn't cheated. The scroll had specifically said that no 'love, lust, admiration etc...Potions were to be used. _Alcohol_ was never on the list.   
  
Plus, the contract had been technically been void the moment Draco had helped her. But, Hermione in all her flurry of passion and _'lost love'_ she'd conveniently forgotten that. Or she’d simply wanted the bet to continue - she had to admire the girl's continuous tenacity though if that were the case.    
  
Suddenly the Slytherin common room door flew open and Pansy in a flurry of licking her lips, pinching her cheeks and whirling around she came face to face with an angry looking Professor.   
  
"Oh, hello Professor McGonagall," she said disheartened, peering around her large hat to see if she was alone. She was. "What are you doing here in the Slytherin house?"  
  
She put on her best fake smile to which Minerva rolled her eyes annoyed, "I haven't the time for false politeness Miss Parkinson."   
  
Pansy nodded, not wanting to have to suck up to the Head of Gryffindor for longer than she had to.

 

"Well, then I suppose I'll b-"  
  
"Not so fast,”  McGonagall said, grasping Pansy by the shoulder and guiding her to a nearby sofa. "Hermione Granger is gone. And rumor is you and Professor Snape were the last to see her."  
  
Pansy frowned at the sight of grinning ghost of Peeves as he skirted by, giggling and pointing at her, making kissy faces. Her stomach churned as she looked at the rat and then dragged her gaze back to McGonagall.  
  
"Yes we were," she sniped at the older woman, "what of it?"  
  
"You'd best mind your manners," McGonagall said outraged, her thin lips twitching angrily as she paled, "or I'll just have to take off po-"  
  
"I believe, since this is the Slytherin sector of Hogwarts, removal of points falls under _my_ jurisdiction, Minerva."  
  
McGonagall twirled angrily around, standing and looking to the bored face of Severus Snape while Pansy sighed dreamily behind her. His arms were crossed and he looked to Pansy with a fleeting look of anger and a face that clearly read, We are going to have a LONG talk...  
  
"Hermione Granger is missing," Minerva said, looking to his face to read if he had been the cause of this mishap. "Allegedly you and Miss Parkinson were the only ones to have seen her last."  
  
Snape nodded, then looking to Pansy he narrowed his eyes.

 

"Parkinson. My office. Now."  
  
Pansy nodded, almost whimpering as she rushed off to his office and closed the door shakily. He rolled his eyes and looked back to an angry and worried looking McGonagall. He almost felt sorry for her. Almost.  
  
"Minerva, She's gone home to her parents."  
  
McGonagall stiffened, "and how would you come to have access to this information?"  
  
"She told me."  
  
"She told _you_?"  
  
"Honestly Minerva," Snape said silkily, "do stop trying to buy time by repeating the same thing I said to you. Yes, the girl is at her parent's Muggle home in London."  
  
McGonagall looked to him like an angry mother whose caught her child in the cookie jar. Although this was a much graver incident than cookies; this was a student. Her Gryffindor student.   
  
"And why would she tell _you_ , of all people, Severus?"  
  
Snape shrugged, for the first time that evening was feeling the pangs of worry and anger pass through his midsection. Don't let her get past the defenses, throw her off.

 

 "I happened to pass her as she was leaving."   
  
McGonagall still didn't look too swayed in judgment,

_Convince her, Severus_.

 

"I was informing her that I was going to be removing points from her house as she was out past curfew and she informed me of her sudden departure."  
  
Minerva nodded slowly at this for that sounded like Snape. She was suddenly quite furious at having been put out and on top of it all – to look such a fool in front of Severus Snape of all people! It would be a long time before she lived this one down with him, if ever.   
  
"Well, I do wish she'd inform us of these silly little escapades."  
  
"She's only a young girl, Minerva. She's plenty of time to make up for her recklessness."  
  
The look of utter shock and disbelief that crossed Minerva's was evident as she reveled in the fact that Snape had just stuck up for someone, gotten a Gryffindor out of trouble. She frowned, making a mental note to pay much closer attention to Snape in the near future.   
  
This took a moment to sink into her mind before Snape gave her a curt nod before heading off to his office.  
  
He made no move to see McGonagall out of the empty common room.   
  
* * *  


Snape walked back and forth before his desk, his face growing red in the cheeks with fury. He and the Parkinson girl had been there for a quarter of an hour and he had spent the majority of it deducting points, administering detention for the year with filch and barely containing his screams of fury.

  
"And as for your indecent behavior last night I can only assume that it was due to consumption of alcoholic beverages, which in turn you evidently slipped into my drink," he was growling, his hands behind his back as he restrained himself from strangling the annoying girl before him.   
  
Pansy felt the tears trickling down her cheeks and she tried desperately to hide them with her hands. He may be a crush, but he was her head of house, and she did have respect for him. She was also just a bit afraid of him as he scolded her. She tried to make herself smaller in her chair, hoping it would stop her from more condemning.    
  
"I-I don’t,” she trailed off, a loss for words as she looked to him curiously seeing as he looked off in the distance. He was standing behind his desk, his hands on the top of the smooth surface as his eyes stared off.   
  
He was thinking about Hermione. Plain and simple. He accepted that he was no longer in control of his feelings for the silly girl and gave himself over to images of her, trying to suppress a small smile. He himself had never had to give chase to a girl in his life aside from Lily. For various reasons such as, he'd never found one to chase after besides the aforementioned witch, and two, even Lily had turned him down for the remarkably annoying James Potter.

The pain of that still stung, and he admitted that in his heart of hearts he would carry that pain forever.   
  
But Hermione, in all her sweet naiveté seemed to fancy him quite a bit, she knew how to push his buttons and she didn't seem to fear him at all which he was realizing was a welcome commodity.   
  
Perhaps he should visit her. Tonight.   
  
Pansy herself was sitting on a rather uncomfortable green chair,that seemed to have a life of its own. She did have a bit of added comfort knowing what had passed between the head of houses moments prior. She had been listening through the door to he and Minerva's conversation.   
  
She suddenly wondered if he was thinking about Hermione. She had heard the emotion in his voice as she had burst in on them in the middle of their steamy kissing.  She felt a pang of jealousy rush through her.  She wasn't stupid. She was getting the uncomfortable feeling that perhaps Snape cared for Hermione much easier and more deeply than he could or would ever care for her.   
  
She also knew that Hermione had used the floo network to rush from Hogwarts to her own home as soon as Pansy herself had closed the door to Hermione's room behind her which meant…Snape wouldn't have known Hermione had gone home unless he was there with Hermione _himself_!  
  
She squealed in her seat at this sudden acquiring of knowledge and concealed it as a sob as Snape whirled around to face her, looking very cross.   
  
"I'm sorry Professor," she said, eyelashes damp as she covered her mouth her hands, making it seem as if she was overcome with emotion, but in truth was trying to conceal the smirk spread over her face, "I have no excuse for my actions."  
  
Snape seemed distracted, "you should be ashamed.”  
  
Pansy nodded, she had been expecting this. But perhaps with her newly acquired tidbit of information Snape would have no choice but to revoke such a punishment at a later date.  
  
"I won't breathe a word of your indiscretions," he said darkly, "as it will surely prove to be detrimental to both of us. I'm letting you off easy this time Parkinson. You're dismissed."  
  
_Oh, I see, make it seem like you're doing me a favor_ , Pansy thought smugly, rising from the uncomfortable chair. _Fine, we'll play by your rules. But not for long._  
  
"Thank you Professor. Please accept my sincerest apologies."  
  
Snape didn't answer, more he clunked down in his seat and started writing something on parchment while Pansy let herself out of the office, a smile on her face and a plan in her devious little mind.  
  
* * *   
  
Hermione hummed to herself as she set out the other pan of cookies; they smelled lovely. Peanut butter, her favorite. She had spent a nice, long, relaxing day at home, loving every non-Hogwarts and Snape-free moment of it. She had written, watched a movie, walked around in the frosty neighborhood, cleaned the house for her parents and managed to get in a long hot bath, and in turn get in a bit of reading in.   
  
Now in the late afternoon, at a time when it got dark quite fast and early, she felt a sense of loneliness she hadn't since the beginning of her first year at Hogwarts. In the slowly chilling water and silence she felt as if she wanted to cry. She had to admit she rather missed Harry and Ron now; it seemed as if she hadn't spoken to them in so long.

 

She pulled herself out of the tub, changing into fresh clothes before she could get too maudlin. Her hair was pulled back, sure not to drop into or catch on anything while she baked. She wasn't the best at it by any means, but she did enjoy a bit of it now and then.   
  
She also had to admit that she wished she hadn't been so quick to turn down that darkly seductive Potions Master last night, especially when she had been in the wrong. He had been tricked and she did forgive him.But, she was also sick to death of being the pursuer in this ridiculous scenario. If he wanted something, anything, he was going to have to make a move. And if he was too nervous or scared or whatever, then sod him.   
  
Minutes later the cookies were on a plate next to the stove, and she herself was washing the dishes, not wanting to leave any of it til morning.   
  
She bent over then to grab the soap and suddenly felt a warm presence against her back, she didn't flinch for she knew exactly who it was. That familiar musky sandalwood and stiff presence was unmistakable.   
  
She rose; his body still pressed to hers as she finally did turn around slowly and looking to him evenly. She wasn't the type eager to be the fawning damsel and she was trying to give off the air of not caring at all.   
  
"Good evening,” she said simply and before he could speak she had whirled around and gone back to her dishes. He gaped at the back of her head, wondering full well if it was worth it to pursue such a woman.   
  
But as he watched over her head, her hands gently wiping the plate in the frothy bubble filled water, and inhaled that delectable scent of her freshly washed hair, and acknowledged the feeling that was pulsing through his veins, he knew she was worth it.   
  
"Good evening, Miss Granger," he murmured into her hair as he pulled it from its elastic confine, his hands then travelling up and down her arms, catching the ends of her hair. He felt her tremor a bit, but she remained stoic.   
  
"I take it you had a pleasant afternoon Professor?" _scrub scrub scrub_ went the sponge in her hand.   
  
Snape sighed darkly, "Miss Granger."  
  
"Good weather? Is it still snowing at Hogwarts?" _scrub scrub scrub_  
  
"Miss Gr-."  
  
"In personal experience Professor, I find the snow to be a bit biting at times in the castle, don't you?" _scrub scrub scrub_  
  
"Mi-...Hermione."  
  
He heard the smile in her voice, the scrubbing immediately ceased. He saw her shoulders relax a moment and she did not flinch when she felt his hands on her hips.   
  
"Yes Severus?"  
  
He whirled her around softly, hearing the water as it trickled to the linoleum floor as she looked up to him, "I believe that if we are past enforced formalities that we too are past coy politeness and hollow comments about the weather."  
  
"Oh are we?" Hermione said looking to him merrily, and giving a smug little shrug "I hadn't noticed."  
  
He backed her into the sink looking to her with dark amusement, his hips suddenly against her own, and he wondered why this animalistic need in him only came out around her.

  
"Yes," he murmured against her lips, "we are."  
  
He bent down slightly and kissed her then, making up for the time in his classroom where he had stood, arms at his sides while his own lips had betrayed him. He wrapped her in his arms, almost crushing her lips against his own.  
  
Her heart pounded in her ears and she worried about what she should be doing. Gads, this had been easier when he was passive. Now, he was leading the way, kissing her with passion that she herself had never experienced until now.  
  
He supported the back of her head, noticing as a tentative hand wrapped itself around the back of his neck, trying desperately to match his needy kisses. Finally her arms lay her her sides as she let him covet her mouth; his tongue slipping into her welcome and peanut butter tinted mouth, her eyes closed as she leaned against him.   
  
She broke away, looking to him impressed. He felt him own pride strengthen, she hadn't run off. Hermione seemed out of place, a little dizzy as she spoke next.   
  
"I, I still have a lot of dishes to do."  
  
Snape broke out into a large and very uncharacteristic grin, although she considered that behind closed doors perhaps he was always like this, coy and good humored. Howevere she doubted it.  
  
"I think they can wait until later."  
  
He then lifted her up onto the edge of the sink and began kissing her again. This time his kisses were longer, more delectable. His lips were soft but had such power behind them that she was already wanting more.   
  
She felt as he took her hands and led them around his neck, wanting to be held by her. She did so without question holding him tightly, wondering how he had gone from the frightening greasy git to her own personal Prince Charming.   
  
He kissed her more reverently then and she felt as one hand started to unbutton the top of her shirt as another stray hand of his made its way up her skirt, inching its way up a silky and currently shaking thigh.  
  
She smiled a bit, pushing him from her, "we need to slow down."

 

She took a deep breath, as he backed away and she slid onto the kitchen floor. Her legs were quite like jelly.

 

"We don't really know each other that much at all."   
  
Trying to break the uncomfortable silence that suddenly came upon them like a gale she frantically looked to the kettle and said rather shakily,   
  
"Tea?"  
  
Snape nodded, looking a bit downhearted but eager as she brushed past him. In a resolute moment of what he could only assume was sudden affection he rolled up his sleeves and began to wash the dishes. The Muggle way.   
  
She looked over her shoulder as he focused upon the dishes, his hair falling in his eyes. He brushed it back, not noticing as some bubbles went along with it, resting on top of his dark head.   
  
She held in a giggle, looking back to her teacups and sugar and feeling Snape's gaze slink over to her. He looked all over her as she grasped the cups and milk and sugar, his eyes though weren't that good at hiding what he was obviously thinking, suddenly feeling a bit heated he undid the top two buttons of his robes.   
  
Hermione though, in her own insecure ways thought he may be observing her, looking to her and not impressed with what he saw. So in a rushed, offhanded way that he immediately knew was worry she blurted;   
  
"What?"  
  
Snape smirked delighted, "nothing. I've just...never really seen you out of uniform."  
  
Hermione nodded shrugging slightly, "I know. I still wear skirts and blouses all the time though. Mum says I'm old fashioned."  
  
Snape chuckled darkly, "you certainly weren't old fashioned when you came to detention that one night."  
  
Hermione blushed, recalling the almost ravenous look on his face as he had gazed openly at her chest as she handed him her essay. She grinned, looking up to him with a slight pink to her cheeks.  
  
"Two lumps of sugar? And milk or cream?"  
  
"Yes please. Cream."  
  
She nodded, pouring the milk and dropping in the sugar delicately. She looked back to him and noticed he was drawing closer. He was next to her suddenly, his forearms bare, his collar opened a bit. Who knew such small changes could make him seem a bit more approachable?   
  
"Of course, well," she moved past him to pour out the remnants of the kettle, "you weren't exactly tactful that night."  
  
"Sorry?" he said, looking to her as if he didn't know to what she was referring. Although, the guilty blush tinting his cheeks gave her a pretty obvious indication.  
  
"Honestly," she said handing him his teacup, "you were practically drooling when I handed in my essay."  
  
Snape gave her a bemused shake of his head as he followed her into the living room, "I do not drool."  
  
* * *   
  
Not even two hours later Hermione and Snape were sitting side by side on the couch, Snape's cloak draped over the arm as he sat beside her clad in black trousers and shirt, looking at the book that Hermione had brought over for them to look at, and now sat on their laps.   
  
It was a collection of pictures from her family trips over the years; they'd been to quite a few places. He was impressed how she could recall the memories with ease, and couldn't deny he was envious of her life. Having parents that loved and cherished her? He couldn’t remember a civil moment he’d had with his father in all his life. And his mother had been a simpering ninny, more inclined to blindly follow her husband around instead of standing up for her son.  
  
He felt so safe here in Hermione’s house; it was warm and there was good tea and he supposed good food. The beds looked comfortable enough and he didn't even miss using magic that much. Except for those dishes of course.

 

Hermione herself was growing quite content with him here in her muggle world. This wasn't to say that she was completely at ease. The man was older, darker and although charming in his own way Hermione wished she could have just a bit of the power back.   
  
Hermione felt his leg brush against her own and found it increasingly difficult to pay attention to the soon wobbling images of the album. Her eyes finally drew slowly up to Snape’s face and saw ,not to her surprise really, that he was looking to her quite tenderly.   
  
He reached out a hand and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face and behind her ears, his fingertips sliding down the side of her neck as she gulped softly.   
  
"Erm,”  Hermione forced her eyes away from that bottomless gaze and back to the book that they had been reading. That moment back in the kitchen still burned in her mind suddenly and she grew hot. There were certain things she wanted to share with Snape but, not all at this moment in time.   
  
"You know," she suddenly blurted, "I've always wanted to visit Rome. It's the one place in Italy I haven't been."  
  
Snape looked to her surprised, either at the sudden change of topic or just the topic in general. "Really."  
  
"Yes."  
  
Hermione went back to the book, explaining several pictures from the various holidays. She noticed as he stared at her often, but looked away when she looked up to meet his eyes.   
  
Suddenly last summer's trip to Hawaii came into view and Hermione casually flipped through the pages, for she had shown this book many times to several friends, Harry and Ron included. Suddenly Snape's hand stopped her from changing the page, and Hermione puzzled looked down to the shiny surface of the photo. Her face began to go red as she tried to turn it.   
  
"No don't, please," he said hoarsely, "I like this one."  
  
_'This one'_ happened to be a picture of Hermione, bronzed from the Hawaiian sun and clad in a black and dark green bikini, coming out of the water waving and smiling widely to the camera. Although the bikini was modest compared to the one's of today, it was still revealing enough and she heard Snape's breathing hitch.   
  
"Oh that's, uh," Hermione trailed off, sneaking a glance at Snape's slightly parted lips his eyes lust filled. Snape himself as a Professor and ex Death Eater had in his time seen enough women, nut none ever this enticing. He barely blinked before Hermione had shut the book and put it on the table.   
  
"Well,” Hermione said embarrassed, looking away quickly, "I'd rather..."  
  
She trailed off again, looking to him the and noticing he most certainly wasn't looking away. She was almost sort of thankful he'd come across the picture. Almost.   
  
"Hermione," he said, his words never reallyasking a question, more telling in that rough and sexy timber of his. "I'd like to kiss you again."   
  
Hermione felt her heart and stomach jump, quite the mix as she wondered how she should react. He saw the worry on her face and felt a mixture of shame and embarrassment invade him. He stiffened, getting ready to leave the room.   
  
"But I understand, if you don-"  
  
"No, I want you to."  
  
"You do?"  
  
"I do."   
  
"Well then."  
  
There was a moment of pure and utter unabashed awkwardness as they sat side by the side on the couch, looking at each other like two first years on a first date. Then in his usual, orderly Professor way he leaned over, and taking her softly then by the shoulders, pressed his lips to hers. This kiss was sweeter than the others, he was far more gentle.   
  
Soon however, Hermione's own desire got the better of her and she gripped his shirt collar and dragged his lips to hers rougher, and she knew by the gentle moan in his mouth that this was a most appreciated approach.  
  
Moments later they were a tangle of limbs, rubbing against one another under layers of clothes on the very couch that Hermione and her parents had had so many talks about safe sex on. She almost laughed at the irony.   
  
Snape had managed to slide one hand over her bare stomach under her shirt without her disapproval and had then made his way, after many kisses and hidden tongue dueling up to her soft breast, he slid his hand under the wire of her bra and passed it over one eager nipple before Hermione suddenly sat up, his hand sliding back from under her shirt and onto his own lap as she looked to him frantically.   
  
"Cookies."  
  
Snape pulled away, looking to her rumpled frame, flustered and smiling nervously. Raising an eyebrow he looked to her "Is that a Muggle nickname? I'm not very fond of it to tell you the honest truth. "  
  
Hermione looked confused a moment before laughing heartily and standing back up on the floor and looked to him. "No, I made some peanut butter cookies earlier. Would you like some to take home?"  
  
At the word 'home' Snape looked a bit crestfallen to say the least, but he also knew he had to be  patient with her. He nodded, a small smile entering on his face. "I'd love some."  
  
She nodded, rushing into the kitchen, he heard her fiddle about with a plate and the sound of cookies sliding onto it and he smiled.

 

"It's almost twelve," she said in awe from the kitchen, she heard Snape's chuckle as he rose, pulling on his robe.  
  
"What? Worried you'll turn back into a pumpkin?"  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes to him entering back into the living room, sort of sad that he was leaving, but a bit relieved. The man was intense. She was worried that she'd already lost all chances though, looking at him as he pulled on his robe and looked to her expectantly.   
  
She wondered why she was suddenly so timid; surely she had kissed him in his classroom and felt no inhibitions. But suddenly alone in her home with him looking at her quite amorously she wasn't only worried that he may lose control, but that _she_ herself may.  
  
She handed him the cookies on a small plate and he looked to her with an unreadable expression on his face, she wondered if he would tell her that she was too much work or that she was obviously not mature enough or-  
  
"I want to see you again," he said softly taking the cookies from her. "Soon."  
  
Hermione nodded, her heart actually pounding. He didn't think she was too stupid or inexperienced. She was very thankful he'd come back, but knew she mustn't lose all defenses. She noticed he was waiting for a reply, looking anxious as if she'd say no. As if she would.

 

Snape's stomach was actually churning; would she say no? Was he a horrid kisser? All worries left them both as she suddenly leaned forward, while her lips brushed his own, and a smile entered on his face as she spoke.   
  
"I suppose you'll just have to come back."


	14. Something goes awry

Her breathing was slow, languid and he felt himself growing drowsy just hearing it. She was under the covers of her bed, her shoulder and arms exposed as they lay atop of the covers whilst she lay on her side. He saw she wore a plain white nightgown and he couldn’t help but acknowledge her unknowing sensuality.   
  
He had left her hours before and gone back to his dull office, plunked himself down on a creaking chair and scolded himself into marking papers. But how could he when her scent was still on him? How could he focus when her contagious smile and voice still wrapped about  his brain?   
  
He had worked for almost two hours before he felt a small tug at his own heartstrings, pulling him. He felt her yearning for him, or was it his yearning for her? He'd barely stood and made his way into the hearth before he'd floo-ed himself into her front room fireplace. He had stood nervously in the dark room a moment, and then clumsily made his way to her room to the side of her bed and lay beside her taking her all in.   
  
This was nothing like the encounter in her Head Girl's room. This was much more deliberate. He didn't feel perverted, he felt justified. She was _his_.   
  
At this thought he brushed a small tendril of hair that had fallen over her cheek, and tensed as he viewed her disoriented awakening. She blinked a moment and then rolled over, leaning against him and looking to him with eyes that conveyed her every emotion.   
  
"I wanted you to come back."  
  
Her voice was barely above a whisper but he heard it as if she had screamed it. His arms were around her at once, and she felt her stomach tilt in the best of ways. He threw back the covers of her bed and she kissed him with vigor as those gentle lips of his were against her own.   
  
"I couldn't stay away."   
  
One hand slid under her thin nightgown, trailing up her thighs slowly as her breathing deepened. He continued feeling around until his hand came into contact with her knickers, his hands slid down the elastic waist and into the warmth below. She could only watch as his hand slid inside her knickers, her lips slowly parted as he watched her expression.  
  
Slowly tapered fingers slid their way inside her, swirling and enticing her to no end. He watched her lips part further, trembling a bit and he felt her leaning into the hand that cupped her below, warm and velvety as he delved deeper. He groaned at the mere touch and feel of her warm and silken channel.   
  
"Oh yes,” she hissed as two gentle fingers played about inside her. He saw aroused as she gripped the soft confined of her mattress, her knuckles going white. Everything felt like electricity shooting through her as his fingers continued below.   
  
"Undress me," he ordered, taking his time in discarding her own nightgown over his shoulder as she looked to him in disbelief. It would take forever if she unbuttoned every damned button on his trousers and shirt. She shook her head, looking to him and still moaning as his hand continued its teasing against her pulsing clit. He'd removed her knickers with his other hand, still training his eyes on her own.   
  
"I can't," she said breathlessly, trying to keep her eyes open but finding it extremely difficult as he played within her. His own dark eyes glittered back at her through the slits of her eyes and she saw he was smirking superciliously. Damn him.   
  
With a swipe of his nearby wand he was naked, and kicked the remaining blankets of her bed to the ground. All that was left were two naked figures, rubbing about on the bare mattress and groaning.   
  
"Tell me you want me," he said withdrawing his fingers and burying his lips against her neck. He surprised himself as he gasped lowly when Hermione began rubbing herself against him as if it were habit.   
  
It had been a long time for him and he didn't want to bugger it up, and so in turn slowly grinded against her. Hermione though in the fits of tingling and moaning didn't seem to care as she slid up and down against him, his hardness poking at her; teasing her.   
  
She slowly let her hand fall atop of its pulsating head, twirling it about with her fingers as if studying it. Severus nearly let himself go then, losing all inhibition. She stroked it gently, upwards and down creating a fine lengthening of it to which she bit back a gasp. She locked eyes with the insatiable Professor atop of her and grinned wickedly.   
  
"I've wanted you ever since the beginning of sixth year you know."  
  
A chuckle sent shivers down the length of her body as she waited for him. He reluctantly pulled away from her downward caress, knowing full well if she didn't he'd be spent it a matter of moments.  
  
"Not good enough Miss Granger," he teased, worrying a nipple of hers between his teeth, relishing in the moans above him as he did.   
  
"I've f-fantasized about shagging you in the middle of classes millions of times."  
  
Another smirk and a short chuckle and she couldn't help but blush a bit. Now she was rewarded with a small ticking and enticing kiss along her lips, a small nibble to the lower one.  
  
"Better."  
  
There was a short pause before her small voice reached out to him in the darkness.  
  
"You're my first."  
  
He stopped then, looking to her in sudden concern, his dark eyes hidden in darkness. Surely he had his suspicions about her sexual status, but as she lay there looking to him with tender trust confessing the truth to him he felt his chest tighten. He was her first.   
  
He kissed her softly then. Lovingly. As a girl like her, delicate and sweet deserved to be kissed. She grinned up at him through the gesture, feeling her heart swell. No words needed to be spoken.  
  
She sighed gently a bit as she felt him squirming about beside her. Then grimacing as he rolled on top of her and in the most achingly slow fashion began to slowly slide inside her. He watched her face, ensuring she wasn’t wincing. When he felt she was prepared, his hips slid upward and re-entered her delicately, feeling relieved that she didn't wince that much. He could tell she was holding her breath though and concern flashed through his blackened eyes.  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
She clenched her teeth nodding vigorously as he moved around slightly, trying to hold back the passion he was feeling. He slipped out and then upwards once more, finally breaking through her virginal barrier. She hissed through her teeth and he saw her solemnly looking up at him from beneath him and he wondered whether he should go on when she spoke gently.   
  
"I want you so badly right now. I need you.”  
  
She didn't finish the latter thought as he slid deeper into her, and she clutched his shoulders. Her eyes squeezed shut and her legs around his waist tightened so much he had to catch his own breath.   
  
"More?" he asked worried that he might have hurt her. She could barely speak, making small moaning sounds now and only allowing a small gasp to escape her lips as warning.   
  
"Of course more!" she gasped, biting her lower lip as she tried not to scream aloud. "Please Gods yes more!"  
  
Snape clenched his teeth, driving deeper into her but finding it difficult. She was so maddeningly tight. His eyes shut as did hers as he slowly pounded into her, determined for her to reach ecstasy. He was tender as well as rough, and Hermione was delighted at the feel of his torso against her breasts, a delightful friction swelling at her core.   
  
The bedpost banged against the wall with every thrust Severus administered and Hermione noticed briefly -in between fits of squealing for Snape to go on and never stop- that her window was open. For a fleeting moment absurdly wondered if her neighbors next door could hear them.   
  
She could imagine that nosy Mrs. Howitzer sitting outside with her husband as they heard the moaning and carrying on next door tsk-ing and saying, _"I always knew there was something odd about that Granger girl."_  
  
All bizarre thoughts of that quickly left her as Snape's arms moved from around her shoulders to grip onto her thighs and maneuver them so that he had ample access. They slipped around, and she noticed his hands were trembling with lust, he kissed her lips roughly then, unable to hold back the passion he was overcome with. Smoothly he grinded into her, and a small "oh," was all she could utter as Severus hit a spot she didn't even know existed.   
  
She shuddered and he did inside of her. She gulped, not know if it was searing pleasure or pain invading her, but as he rubbed further she realized it was beyond pleasure. It was almost ecstasy. She felt so incredibly full having him within her, a sensation that was fully new to her but not unpleasant.  
  
"Like that do you?" Snape said with a small smirk. Hermione could see the strained yet pleasurable look on his face as he continued, grasping her thighs and going deeper, his eyelids fluttering shut. She moved her own hips a bit, bumping against his and saw as his eyelids fluttered and he groaned loudly.   
  
"Like _that_ do you?" she asked breathlessly, grinning and shining from their combined sweat. Her head swam in a euphoric state as she took in the delicious creature atop of her, moving back and forth like a swing as he pounded into her.   
  
Forward. Back. Forward. Back. At times he looked as if he were about to launch over her. Every time he moved forward though she'd give a welcoming and appreciative lick at his collar, relishing in his odd shivers. He buried his head in her breasts then, kissing them, nibbling at the nipples them as he continued unnerved. He nuzzled one, his hair ticking an already erect nipple causing her gasps to go up several octaves.   
  
Finally his hips went at an almost alarming rate, causing something inside Hermione to unexpectedly explode as a scream ravaged and ripped from her throat. No matter of lip biting could hold back the moaning scream of utter and total rapture that flooded all of her senses, sending every bit of her alight and tingling.  
  
She clung to him, still moving about and never wanting it to end. He moaned in her ear as she did so and heard him utter her name in a sensual groan. They slowed and Hermione noticed she was suddenly dizzy and quite drowsy. She gave him a long and lingering kiss that he responded to with vigor. He rolled over, bringing her along with him as he covered her in small kisses and held her against him.  
  
They did not wake again until dawn.  
  
  
* * *   
  
"Are you awake?"  
  
He was still sleeping when she shook his shoulder gently, trying to wake him softly. He gave a short little snort as he blinked his eyes open, looking at his surroundings.   
  
"Where am-" he paused as he looked up to her face, bathed in the morning light filtering in through her open window. Hermione stood beside the bed, looking like a strange dream come to life in her muggle clothes and sweet smile.   
  
"Good morning."  
  
He gave her a gentle smile before her lips brushed his cheek. He yawned slightly and sat up, blinking a bit and trying to get the blurring out of his dark eyes. Hermione herself looked radiant this morning, almost glowing from some Inner Light.   
  
She snuck a shy glance at her usually surly Professor; now her lover. He was so cute in a strange way. His dark hair stood up in the back from sleeping on it wrong.   
  
He licked his own lips and gave her raised an eyebrow in embarrassed question. Hermione blushed a bit; everything looked much more real in the morning, including his naked form beside her.  
  
"I thought it may be prudent for you to return to the school this morning. They're probably wondering where you are. You've already missed breakfast."  
  
Snape looked to her in shock and took a small glance at the clock beside her bed. 10 a.m. Good Lord, when had he ever slept that late in his life? He nodded and surveyed the crumpled bed, the discarded nightgown and blankets.   
  
"Hermione," Severus asked scanning the floor, squinting, "do you know where my trousers are?"  
  
Hermione’s heart flipped as the sound of her name on his lips. Something he had never done in her fantasies but know wondered how she had ever forgone it. She gave a small grin and nodded, rushing out of the room in her robe and returning a moment later with a folded wad of black clothing.  
  
"I washed them for you."  
  
She handed his clothes to him and noticed he looked a bit crestfallen as he took them from her.

He was very likely thinking exactly what she was. Their time together was at an end. Hermione suddenly burst into tears and promptly threw herself into his chest, holding him to her and burying herself into his warm embrace.  
  
"I don't want you to go," she wailed muffled by his clothing, grasping onto him tightly as he felt his own walls collapse, and felt his heart melt along with hers.  
  
"I must," he said grimly, pulling back to look at her. Tears were streaming down her face in small little drops, she brushed them away angrily.  
  
"I know."  
  
Hermione supposed that now that he'd had his way with her, he'd be sure to leave. Her mother's old saying popped into her brain suddenly and she felt an overwhelming despair knock her over like a tidal wave.

  
She placed a disparaging head against his cloaked chest and muttered something inaudible into it, holding him close to her. He rubbed her back gently, soothing her and looking down to the top of her dark head confused.  
  
"Sorry, I didn't catch that last bit."  
  
Hermione pulled her head away from him, looking to him with large weepy and glassed over eyes.   
  
"I-I said I'm the c-cc-cow!"  
  
Her head slammed back into Snape's chest as he wrinkled his nose in confusion. What the hell was she on about? A cow? Was this some Muggle thing? He pulled her back to face him, gently tracing a comforting fingertip along her jaw.   
  
"Please do explain."  
  
"My mother always used to say, 'Wwhy buy the cow when you can get the milk for ff-free?' and now, I'm the cow, vyou've gotten yy-your free milk from me and n-now, you're going to leave me. Well fine. Go ahead. Leave me."  
  
She sobbed openly then as Snape watched her in mute shock. He shook his dark head, eyes narrowed on her as she finally looked up to him.   
  
"Hermione, I merely meant that I had to return to Hogwarts as so not to arouse suspicion. I had every intention of returning to you tonight if not earlier."  
  
Hermione sniffled a bit, wiping away her tears. "You were?”

  
"Yes." he suddenly blushed himself, "That is of course, if you'll have me."  
  
Hermione felt a smile break out on her face and she crushed him in a hug, sending him backwards on her rug as she covered him in kisses. His heart jumped as he realized just how much she cared for him. More kisses suddenly led to his mouth and he claimed hers in his own.   
  
If this was what real love was like, Severus Snape definitely wanted in.   
  
* * *  
  
"There really must be a more effective means of travel," Snape mumbled to himself between coughing fits as he brushed his cloak off.   
  
He stood in the Slytherin common room, sure that all the students that remained at the school over holidays were either studying somewhere or snogging. Not that he could really blame them now. He suppressed an inappropriately large smile.   
  
Many kisses and promises before hand, Severus had pledged that he would return to Hermione before the stroke of seven.   
  
She had smiled up at him kissing him one last time as he went through the fireplace of her parent's house and promised to make him a splendid dinner as a thank you for the night before. He had blushed and nodded before calling out his destination, leaving her with a smirk and wink.   
  
He hummed something tunelessly to himself as he prepared to walk to his office. Perhaps he should bring some elf-made wine to eat with dinner. He smiled at the thought of what this evening would entail.

  
Suddenly Pansy rounded into the room, looking to Snape with bemused surprise. Snape turned at the footsteps and inwardly groaned as he viewed her. Little bint.  
  
"Why hello Professor. Didn't see you at breakfast this morning."  
  
_That_ _’_ _s because I was off shagging the most incredible woman until three this very morning and didn_ _’_ _t really care to see Albus or you first thing at breakfast._  
  
Snape shrugged, giving a gruff sound before preparing to make his way into his office.   
  
"Have a nice night?"  
  
Snape whirled around and glared at her. "That's really none of your business, is it?"  
  
“Perhaps not.”  
  
Pansy gave a superior little shrug and stalked closer to him, reveling in her hand of power.

 

_Oh Severus, I am going to make you wish you'd never encountered that little Mudblood._  
  
"I have some news that may be of interest Sir."  
  
_Gads just go away you little twit._  
  
"I'm really not in the mood, Miss Parkinson," he said airily, his mind on Hermione. Sweet, lovely Hermione.  
  
"It's actually about Hermione Granger."  
  
Snape tried to turn casually as to not arouse suspicion.   
"What about her?"  
  
_Got you right where I want you_.  
  
"Actually sir," Pansy said grimly, trying not to smirk "It involves both Hermione and I."  
  
Snape's stomach did a flip. Hermione involved with Parkinson? Something was deadly wrong. He swallowed harshly a moment as Pansy spoke again, feigning regret.  
  
  
"It's actually about a bet, sir."  
  
---


	15. Bottling Courage

The flame from the white candle flickered on the sleek, polished back tabletop, its reflection catching in Hermione's dark eyes as the appetizing aroma of chicken filtered through the air.   
  
_Perhaps something important has come up._  
  
Hermione peered down and looking into the shiny surface she made a face at her reflection. She sighed, absently fingering a nearby fork and looked to her grandiose display of cutlery and good china she had set out for Severus' arrival. Almost twenty minutes ago.  
  
_But he said, no later than seven. Those were his exact words._  
  
She looked to the kitchen clock and frowned deeply, growing a bit chilly in her newly acquired dress. It had thin straps and began going into ruffles at her knees, giving an almost Spanish appearance if it hadn't been for the dark green color.  
  
_Now 7:30, a half hour late. He could have called or something. Wait, maybe he said no later than seven thirty? Perhaps and that wouldn't make him late at all. I suppose I'll just wait until then, he'll be here. I'm sure of it. He wouldn’t lie._  
  
Although at this point in time, Hermione felt anything _but_ certain about her lover's arrival. This was all too foreign and fast and perhaps she had been wrong about him. To think this had all started with a bet. This gave her a sudden queasy feeling in her abdomen and bitter taste in her throat and mouth.

The bet.

She winced as she recalled the real reason that she and he were together. If she told him would he care? No, he was much to mature for that. He was above stupid adolescent things like that. He'd see what he meant to her. That this had become so much more.   
  
_I'm going to tell him about the bet tonight. That way there'll be no secrets between us. We can have a clean slate. Yes, that'll be perfect._  
  
But the time was not presenting itself as Severus Snape was not yet at her home, and didn't appear to be coming any time soon. Hermione decided on impulse that some nice Beethoven in the background might prove to be a welcome assistance during the dinner. She brought out the c.d. player and in a matter of moment, Symphony No. 7 in A major, Op. 92 began playing.

She collapsed into the still warm chair at the table and began considering what she would study later on in the week for exams. Finally when curiosity could inhibit her no longer she looked frantically to the clock.  
  
_7:49_. _Honestly, is he always going to be this rude?  
_  
She suddenly felt a bit ticked off. She'd gone to all this trouble for him and he hadn't even the decency to say he'd be late? Or not coming at all? A warm patch of fur suddenly nuzzled against her foot and she sighed sadly.   
  
"Hello Crookshanks," Hermione said, patting the pet she had brought back from school today as he purred and nuzzled against her calf a few minutes before his eye caught sight of something interesting and he took off after it.   
  
Hermione's foot tapped the ground at the beat of the melancholy music and she stood suddenly, walking over to the oven and checking on her chicken. She analyzed the color, hoping that she hadn't buggered it up as she wasn't the world's best cook without magic. After deliberation and moving about of pieces she resolutely washed her hands and looked back up at the clock above the oven.   
  
_7:57. Perhaps I'll give him a few more minutes._

She sat at the table, struggling not to cry for if Severus did arrive would he really want to spend his evening with a sobbing wreck? The minutes ticked by beside her, teasing her, and she felt all prior solid reassurance of Snape's attraction to her dwindling.   
  
Moments later she stood and began blowing out the candles. A lump in her throat making it difficult to do so and she tried not release that sob that lodged itself in her mouth.   
  
_He's not coming. Maybe he knew about the bet all along and he's playing with me. Oh God I don't kn-_  
  
Suddenly she stopped, looking to the fireplace with a solemn grimace. If he was late, surely he had a good reason. She'd just check in with him, make sure everything was fine.

She grasped her wand and throwing down the floo powder in her fireplace she yelled out, “professor Snape's office."

***  
Hermione crept out of the fireplace, brushing off her cloak and stopping. She heard voices outside, in the Slytherin common room.   
  
Hermione crept forward; a shaft of light shining into the dark office as she went to the door which was opened a crack. She recognized Snape's deep timber and subconsciously licked her lips, recalling the night before fondly. It had been so perfect.

One dark brown eye peered further into the Slytherin common room and she caught sight of the back of Snape's dark head as a woman sat uneasily across from him a glass of tea in front of her.   
  
It was at that moment that she realized the woman across from Snape was Pansy.

Pansy Parkinson.   
  
_Oh God._  
  
Hermione could see their lips moving, but could barely hear them. She stuck her ear out further, trying to catch anything.  
  
"Well Miss Parkinson, I've met you as you requested. Now, tell me of this bet you're so fixated upon. And let it be quick, I have plans for this evening."  
  
Hermione's blood went to ice. Oh God no! He was going to find out from Pansy! Pansy sat smirking across from Snape, leaning casually on the sofa opposite him as she thought of the harshest way to break this to her bitter Professor.   
  
_How dare he fall for that Mudblood._  
  
There was a pause and Hermione saw Pansy's face screw up in a thoughtful smirk.

"It's rather hard to explain Professor."  
  
_That pug-faced bitch._  
  
Hermione felt her stomach heave. She was going to lose Snape forever. She silently begged for Pansy to stop, to do her just one favor in her stupid, bloody lif-  
  
"Well Professor," Pansy drawled taking a sip of her tea, "do you recall when I had 'CHEATER' written about on my forehead?"

Pansy spoke with  a dark glower on her face. Her piggish eyes narrowed as she leaned closer to the Professor. Hermione saw as Snape nodded and tears fell from her face, silently falling to the stone floor that she sat upon. All her hopes, her dreams for them gone. Everything was gone.   
  
She was about to turn and leave the dark room, to go to bed and try to ignore the fact that Snape wouldn't be returning to warm her cold bed.   
  
"Severus?"  
  
Hermione whirled around to see Professor McGonagall rushing into the Slytherin common room, a scowl on her face and anger in her eyes.   
  
"Yes Minerva?" came the silky reply. McGonagall stalked over to the two Slytherins and looked to Pansy with fury. Pansy had a guilty look on her face that she tried to hide as the older witch strode over.   
  
" _You,_ Miss Parkinson have a detention. With me, if you do recall after your abominable behavior earlier today in class."  
  
Hermione nearly gasped, thank her lucky bloody stars! _McGonagall to the rescue! Minerva McGonagall is my hero. I'm sending her a fruit basket as soon as all of this is settled._  
  
Hermione was mentally going over what things she'd send to Minerva in the said fruit basket when Snape spoke lowly.   
  
"She's busy Minerva."  
  
Fear clutched Hermione.

 _NO NO NO you git! Let her go! Come back to my house! I'll break it to you easily. I can't lose you._  
  
"She's required in my classroom to serve detention."  
  
_YES! Go Minerva! Severus, listen to her!_  
  
"She's not to be languishing about in here, socializing and drinking t-."  
  
"But Professor McGon-"  
  
Pansy suddenly shot a look at a rigid Snape and Hermione could tell that he was suddenly livid. How stupid of Pansy making her own house look bad by interrupting two professors.  
  
"Do not interrupt a Professor Miss Parkinson. Ever."  
  
A bit of that prior power left her eyes and Pansy silently nodded, looking to her hands.  
  
"Sorry Professor Snape."  
  
Silence. Only Hermione's heart pounding could be heard to her. She covered her mouth to muffle the heavy breathing. She saw as Snape's long fingers tapped the side of the sofa, lazily tapping his fingers along as Minerva and Pansy awaited his decision.   
  
"You may take her Minerva."   
  
Pansy stood angrily, looking to McGonagall and then back to Snape. "I had to tell you something really quite important Professor."  
  
"Evidently it will have to wait until tomorrow. I have a pressing engagement."  
  
_Me!_

Hermione stood shakily and felt her heart sing; she still had time! She watched as Pansy was carted off to serve detention and tried to stifle a relieved laugh. She had still had a chance! She could tell Severus of the bet over dinner, explain it was all a mistake and hopefully he’d forgive her and they’d retire to the bedroom for dessert. This all appeared a good plan, but one thing faltered the small smile on Hermione’s lips.  
  
Would he forgive her?  
  
She was still contemplating this formidable question darkly when his office door swung open and she came face to face with Severus Snape.   
  
He didn’t appear too happy to see her.


	16. So close

Hermione turned on the water in the kitchen, beginning with the dishes and sighed heavily. What had she gotten herself into? Severus had followed her back for dinner earlier, apologizing over and over for being late. His severe look to her had been nothing but fatigue and an overwhelming desire to see her!

 

He had been apologizing to HER! She couldn’t contain the shame she felt at that. It was now after dinner and she still hadn’t gotten the courage to tell him the truth.   
  
She suddenly heard a yelp from the bathroom and looked to the direction in surprise. Suddenly her attention drew back to the running water over the dishes.

 

_Turn the water off you fool! He'll scald himself!_ Hermione gasped, shutting the water off instantly. _Great. Just add that to the list of things I've done wrong to Severus Snape. The list must be miles long by now._  


Snape had decided that he needed a shower after dinner, to get the soot off of his robes. But before he’d left for the shower he’d requested devilishly against her mouth that she join him. She had told him she’d finish the dishes and do just that, But here she was delaying it, unsure if she should enter into sexual congress again knowing that she had this awful secret. Would it make it worse when she told him?

 

Severus Snape was not the type of man who stood for such adolescent idiocy. He was an obstinate man, one that was easily hurt emotionally, always putting up guards. And now, the one person he had confided in was her, and she was going to shatter him with the confession that their entire relationship had begun with a bet. A bet with Pansy Parkinson of all people!   
  
She was thinking to herself of the best way to phrase this, putting the last of the dishes away when she heard the front door downstairs open slowly and her mother's sing-song voice drifted upstairs.   
  
"-to Thursday. I mean honestly, what was Terrance thinking?"  


_Mum and Dad?_  
  
Hermione felt her heart stop, and she tried to move but found it impossible.

_Is he still in the shower?!_

 

She could still hear the shower running and with that sound her body seemed to come back to life. She rushed to the bathroom, praying it was unlocked. It was.

  
"Severus!" she hissed, shutting and locking the door behind her. He stood, clothed only in the pink towel around his waist. He was looking into the mirror contemplatively as she stared at his impressive torso and bare legs a moment. He caught her eyes in the mirror and gave her a sultry look.

 

“You certainly took your time, Miss Granger.”  


He turned his face to her and gave a shy smile and she noticed his hair was still quite damp and she felt her breathing becoming uneven. He was so statuesque, so brilliantly chiseled in all the right places. So unknowingly sensual with his hair slicked back from his face.   
  
"You know, those knobs are quite strange," Snape commented as she came closer to him not noticing the look of panic in her eyes. "I turned on a bit of hot and bit of cold, and everything was fine. But moments later it suddenly ran blistering hot!"  
  
Hermione gave a worried shrug, her thoughts now back on the problem at hand. "Err, you probably just didn't turn on enough cold."

 

Her voice grew hushed as she drew nearer to him, grasping his bare forearm suddenly.

 

"Anyway, that doesn't matter right now. My parents are home from their trip! Home, downstairs, no actually probably upstairs now. In the kitchen for all I know! You have to be quiet."  
  
Snape face blanched, as he looked to her in disbelief. "Your parents?"  
  
Hermione nodded, "Yes. My Mum and Dad. They're probabl-"  
  
"Hello?" came a voice from the other side of the door, "Hermione darling is that you?"  
  
Hermione gulped as she cupped her hand over Snape's mouth while he gave her a look of shock as if to say, _HonestlyI wasn't going to say anything_.   
  
"Yes Mum?"  
  
"What are you doing here?"  
  
"Oh," Hermione gave Snape a meaningful look, as she pulled her hand away from his mouth. "Just felt like spending a bit of time at home."  
  
"Oh of course. How are Harry and Ron?"  
  
"Oh they're fine Mum."  
  
"Ginny?”

 

“Just, good and, uh, fine Mum.”  
  
"Good, good." there was a small pause, "and how about that mean Professor of yours, Snape? Is he still being cruel to you? Darling is that why you’ve come home for the holiday?"  
  
Snape smirked, looking to a flustered Hermione. Hermione forgot how often she had complained about him to her Mother.

 

"No mum, he’s been quite…amiable lately. Not cruel at all."

 

At this Snape tried to suppress a chuckle.  
  
"Well," Mrs. Granger suggested gently, "perhaps we should have him over for dinner sometime then."  
  
Hermione felt her eyes go wide as Snape stood, leaning against the sink, arms crossed over his delicious torso as he smirked at her openly. Damn him for being so calm about this disaster.  
  
"Uh, he's quite busy all the time Mum," before the woman could speak again, Hermione rushed on, "anyway, I just wanted to have a shower, so could we talk more later?"  
  
"Sure honey. See you when you’ve finished."  
  
Hermione waited until she heard her Mother's footsteps diminish into the kitchen before she braced herself against the sink.  
  
"So," Snape drawled quietly into her ear, “your cruel professor wonders; how do you propose we get out of here without being caught?"  
  
Hermione shivered a bit of his breath in her ear and looked to him, so close and smelling so fresh. Before she could think of something logical to say she squinted at his hair, noticing its suddenly acquired healthy shine.

 

"Did you use my shampoo?"  
  
Snape looked to his reflection and nodded. "Do you mind?"  
  
Hermione shook her head, looking to him a moment at a loss for words. Then shaking her head and looking from him,(since looking to him proved to be quite distracting.) she spoke.  
  
"What do you mean how do I propose we get out of here?" her voice was hushed but intense, "Just use your wand!"   
  
Snape rolled his eyes, and whispered back just as urgently.

 

"Honestly Hermione, don't you think I thought of that?"  
  
Hermione shrugged, "So then, what's the problem?"  
  
He looked quite embarrassed and miffed as he spoke next. Almost ashamed.  
  
"I've left it in the kitchen."  
  
Hermione could have strangled him. Of all the stupid things to do. He was an ex Death Eater for God sake!

 

_He didn't know he'd be stranded in your bathroom with your parents a mere few feet away._  
  
"Okay," Hermione said quietly, "alright. Give me a moment."  
  
She sighed and then straightening looked to Severus severekym giving no room for sarcastic comments from him.   
  
"Right. I'll grab your wand from the kitchen. Just keep quiet."  
  
Snape nodded, backing against the wall and looking after her impressed at her tenacity of spirit.    
  
Hermione took a deep breath and opened the door a crack. Seeing no one there she turned off the lights and opened the door wider, shutting if firmly after she left.  
  
"-And so I told Markson that the filling was crucial and he gave me so-"  
  
Hermione sighed, her parents were in the kitchen giving some stupid speech about cavities and now it's be impossible to slide past them so she walked into the kitchen airily, as if she was just passing by.   
  
"Hello darling," Hermione's mother said, giving her a kiss on the forehead and passing her husband the newly brewed coffee. Hermione nodded back, welcoming her parents and not bothering with small talk. She casually inspected the starkly clean kitchen table in hopes of seeing his dark wand. Which she didn't. _Oh God no._  
  
"Mum?" she asked, her voice filled with panic, "did you clear the table?"  
  
The older woman nodded, "why yes. There were plates of food just left out, I mean th-"  
  
"Did you," Hermione interrupted, not wanting to ask the question, "throw _everything_ away?"  
  
The woman smirked and then nodded, her dark eyes matching that of her daughters'. "Why wouldn't I?"  
  
Hermione's eyes grew impossibly wide as she looked to where the large trash bag was usually set out next to the sink. Her salvation lay inside. But when she opened the cupboard she was greeted with a clean bag.

 

Where the hell was it?  If Snape did not have his wand in five minutes things were going to go extremely downhill and quick. It was far too early for Severus Snape to be meeting her muggle dentist parents. Especially when he was half naked and smelling like coconut.   
  
"Where is it?" she croaked, looking to her parents in mute horror.   
  
"I put it out on the curb," her father said matter-of-factly, "thought it may save time."  
  
"Oh holy God! He'll kill me!"

 

She rushed downstairs and out to the door to where the garbage bag lay sadly on the curb. Hermione ignored the lone neighbor walking by her with his dog and she ripped the bag open, digging about in its disgusting insides for the wand. Her heart was hammering as she groped blindly for it. Her parents rushed outside as well, looking to her in shock.   
  
"Who will kill you?" Her father asked worried, rushing to his daughter's side. She held in the hopeless cry of her heart as she mingled in the trash, looking for the wand. He moved back seeing her intensity.  
  
Hermione didn't answer, only looked to her Mother with fury.

 

"HOW COULD YOU THROW AWAY A BLOODY WAND?!"  
  
Hermione's Mother shook her head, "I never threw out a wand Hermione." She helped her shaking daughter up and back into the house, rushing up to the kitchen. There she moved her hand to the window ledge by the sink and grasped the small stick between her hands. "I moved it."  
  
Hermione's mouth gaped open, "you...moved it," she repeated, her eyes transfixed on the chance at Severus' escape. She stood, kicking garbage out of the way; she washed her hands and then took the wand from her mother with grateful, shaking hands. That had been much too close.   
  
"Sorry Mum."  
  
"No, I'm sorry darling," she pat Hermione's back soothingly, "you must have had a horrid day, you seem so tense."  
  
Hermione nodded, and then looked to apologize to her Father only to see that he was gone. "Where's dad?"  
  
Her Mother shrugged, "probably the bathroom. You know excitement stimulates his poor bladder."  
  
_NOOOOOO!!!_  
  
Hermione's eyes widened even further as she dashed from her Mother's company and rushed down the hall, seeing the door shut and the lights on. _SEVERUS!_ Her father most certainly would have noticed him. Oh no.   
  
"DAD!"   
  
She banged on the door, almost knocking it off its hinges. She called for her father screeching through the door and heard the muttering curses from him on the other side. She heard the sink running and suddenly the door flew open and her Father gave her a most unimpressed look.

 

“What the hell is the matter with you tonight, Hermione?”  
  
_Please..Please tell me he didn't see anything._  
  
"Dad...I-I need to have a shower. Now"  
  
He looked confused to her a nodded, "you could have waited a moment." he noted exiting the washroom, “I wasn’t that long.”

 

 He saw the extremely pensive look on his daughter’s face and spoke again, forcefully.   
  
"You said someone would kill you?"

 

His lighter eyes boring into her own. His light brown hair stood frizzily atop of his head, obviously tried to be held down by gel. Hermione's glance kept going back and forth from the door to him.

 

  _Just step away from the door!_  
  
"Erm," Hermione's mind whirled as she scrambled to come up with a plausible premise. "You see, I borrowed Ron's wand, for a project." she held up Snape's wand. "He would have killed me if I lost it. You know how important a wand is to its owner."  
  
He nodded, seeming a little wary but believing her momentarily. Before he could question her more she spoke.  
  
"Well, I'd better go have my shower, especially now."  
  
She motioned to her filthy looking hands and shot her a confused look, then shrugging her father nodded.

 

"Alright then. But, when you're done please come out to the kitchen, I'd like to have a chat."

  
Hermione nodded, "sure Dad. Anything."  
  
He nodded; kissing her on the head and moving lazily back to the kitchen. She opened the bathroom door and saw it empty.

 

_Where the hell is he?_

 

She looked to the shower and seeing it bare looked to the only other feasible place, the small cupboard that stored their linens. She threw it open and concealed a ripping laugh.  
  
Severus sat, scrunched up about in the cupboard, a small towel over his head as he looked to her angrily.

 

“About bloody time.”

 

 He tossed the towels from him and clumsily made his way out of the cupboard. She noticed rather sadly that he was fully dressed. He must have been sweltering in that damned cupboard.  
  
“How long have you been in there?”  
  
He shrugged, smoothing his rumpled robes.   


“A few moments. When your Father decided it was a most opportune time to relieve himself,” he shuddered.   
  
“Sorry,” she whispered, handing him his wand as he grimaced, looking to the grime it had acquired.   
  
“I had to root around in the garbage for it,well, almost.” She ignored his strange and perplexed look and took the wand from him, running it under the tap a moment and drying it with the small towel he still had on his shoulder. “Here.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
There was an unsettling pause, and Hermione knew that all chances of confessing the bet would have to wait. No point in getting him so angry that he screamed at her, and her parents found she and her Professor in a screaming match in their bathroom with towels scattered about on the floor.   
  
“Will you see me again Se-?”  
  
She hadn’t even the time to finish her question when his lips pressed against hers, grasping the back of her head and kissing her even deeper. A strand of damp his hair brushed her cheek and she could smell its coconut scent easily.

 

Her heart hammered, even then as she kissed him back, matching his gusto and his pelvis brushed against her own as she heartily suppressed a moan. She didn’t need her parents thinking anything else about her. Finally he pulled away, giving her a small wry smile that affirmed her query, and stepping back he spoke quietly, his dark eyes trained on hers.   
  
“Thank you for a most enjoyable, although, decidedly bizarre evening, Miss Granger.”  
  
Before she could answer he was gone, a snap of his fingers and a smirk later. She slumped to the floor of the bathroom, holding her knees and cursing under her breath as tears finally fell freely from her dark eyes and hit the floor with unheard splashes.  
  
So close and yet so far.  
  
---  
  
 


	17. The Truth

_Why didn't I just tell him? Why didn't I just tell him in his office? Why not before he climbed into the shower? I wouldn't have to live with this guilt any longer. I’m supposed to have that Gryffindor courage! What a fake I am!_  
  
After Hermione’s short talk with her father (which turned out about this fine young gentleman they had met over at the dentistry workshops), she had sullenly told her father she was involved and gone to bed. Now it was hours later, the house was still and she was lying in the bed in which she had been seduced by him.  
  
That mere thought sent sparks down her stomach, and she felt a spasm endure. She recalled that classes began tomorrow and she suppressed a distressed groan. Seeing Severus was one thing, going to classes with him as her teacher was quite another. She didn't want to sit in his class, gazing at him while she tried to concentrate.   
  
_When you tell him I doubt a romantic relationship will be an option, Hermione._

Hermione's heart hammered as her worrisome thoughts intruded and she wondered for one horrified moment if he'd have her drop his class. How humiliating.  
  
_Don't be a moron. The man's a professional. And I'm sure he'll understand if you explain everything to him._

Hermione nodded, "of course," she said hollowly to herself, “he’ll understand.”

_But what if it’s not?_

Hermione's stomach clenched and she felt the sudden urge to vomit her chicken dinner right into her wastebasket.   
  
_No. Regain composure. Everything will be fine._  
  
She stepped out into the living room, saying a quick goodbye to her family before stepping into the fireplace. She contemplated saying, " _Severus Snape's office,"_ but that would only leave her Mother   
with ammunition for the next time she arrived.

Plus, there was no guaranteeing his presence, he might he teaching classes for all she knew. Instead she opted for something more practical.   
  
"Gryffindor common room!"   
  
* * *

"As soon as I find that Hermione Granger," McGonagall said angrily, pacing around the common room muttering to herself, “she’s is in a heap of trouble. Leaving the school grounds unannounced and still not returned the night before classes are to start."  
  
Minerva had been pacing around the common room all evening, waiting for Hermione’s arrival. She was offended that the girl hadn’t told her of her departure, and that she was late without notifying her. Not only did this look badly upon McGonagall, but she didn’t even know if Hermione was alright.   
  
If anything McGonagall was worried and as a stern head of house she covered this concern with anger. All the students were in their rooms now and she tried to hold back worried tears. Suppose something had happened to poor Hermione?   
  
Unexpectedly there was a small pop and a loud hacking cough as Hermione came out of the fireplace, soot all over her robes that she magically zapped . She looked frantic and was about to rush out the door when she caught side of a livid Gryffindor head of house.   
  
“Oh, good evening Professor McGongall,” she said courteously, nodding to the older woman as if the lateness of hour and lack of information were nothing to note.   
  
"Miss Granger," McGonagall said sternly, the tears vanishing from her eyes as she glared at the young woman. "You are tardy and have a lot of explaining to do."  
  
Hermione felt her heart drop, “Do you think this could wait another time, you see-“  
  
“No,”  McGonagall said, pointing to a seat, “now would be most appropriate.”   
  
_Don_ _’t you understand!_ Hermione wanted to scream, _I may already be too late! I have to see Snape!_  
  
She sat heavily, looking to the older woman with a deep frown. She was absolutely on tenterhooks just waiting to leave and McGonagall seemed to be taking her sweet time!

 “Well?”  
  
McGonagall looked surprised at her students’ brashness. Hermione was usually reserved and polite, now she looked unsettled and tense. Not that she had any right to be considering the fright she had given her Head of House.

But looking at the young girl Minerva thought she saw something new; a shine that hadn’t been there before. She suspected she had most definitely been involved with someone over the break with a secret smile. She looked the young girl, noting that perhaps she was being too strict in such a circumstance. Hermione Granger was a smart, good girl.    
  
“You’ve been at your parents’ home in London for the final duration of your winter break?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“And you didn’t find it necessary to inform me of your departure?”  
  
“Not really, Professor.”   
  
McGonagall sighed, rubbing her temple. “And why would that be?”  
  
Hermione drummed her fingers along the side of the chair, “because I’m a grown woman. And I didn’t even know I had to inform anyone of my departure. I apologize if I upset you, that most definitely was never my intent. I simply needed a break and my parent’s house seemed the best fit.”

McGonagall nodded, understanding where the girl was coming from. But that didn’t excuse her! She suddenly recalled the smirk on Snape’s face when she had come to him concerned that Hermione hadn’t returned. The git was mocking her – letting her know her charges were running lose. Minerva frowned at this, the blow to her ego.

“I’ll have you know, I had to hear of your leaving from Professor Snape,” McGonagall said lowly with a hint of despair. “Imagine! The head of Slytherin telling _me_ where my own student was!”  
  
Minerva noticed as Hermione suddenly gripped the sides of the chair, her eyes widening a bit.

"Oh. What did he say exactly?”    
  
McGonagall looked rather perplexed to Hermione. Her flushed cheeks, her worried expression he inner shine.  As if in slow motion McGonagall observed the quickness of Hermione’s breath and the tongue that slipped out to wet her lips nervously. Minerva felt a jolt of white panic and horror shoot through her system as she gaped open mouthed at Hermione.

 _Oh God._ _No_.   
  
She didn’t know what to say as Hermione sat across from her, looking to her in worry.

“Are you alright Professor? You seem a bit pale.”

McGonagall steadied herself, images whirring past her. Severus explaining Hermione’s departure while seeming a bit nervous, his prior obligation that seemed so important, him being the last one to see Hermione. It all fit.   
  
“Hermione, I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”  
  
Hermione looked confused to the older woman in front of her, looking flustered and nervous all at the same time. Was this the McGonagall that she had been so scared of when she first arrived at Hogwarts?

“Sorry?”  
  
Minerva looked to her in painstaking effort to keep from yelling at Hermione to stay away from Snape. That he was bad news. That she was so young and had her whole life ahead of her.   
  
“You’ve met a man haven’t you?” she said slowly as Hermione blushed and nodded, shrugging a bit.  “If this man is causing you to be tardy Miss Granger, then I suggest you keep your distance. “

“He most definitely doesn’t deter from my scholastic achievements,” Hermione said with a secret grin, oblivious to the nauseated look on McGonagall’s face. “In fact, he inspires me to continue to do my best.”

“But you’ve got a bright future ahead of you,” Minerva appealed, looking to the girl in almost silent desperation. “A whole life to lead! You don’t need to do that with someone who couldn’t possibly understand or appreciate you.”  
  
Hermione seemed a bit offended at this comment. She suddenly felt as if she were being handled with kid gloves and she raised her chin a bit higher before fixing the woman with a determined face.

“And how do you know he couldn’t understand or appreciate me?”

“I know men,” Minerva said quietly, not wanting to show her cards. _And I know this man! Stay away!_

“He is quite bright himself Professor,” Hermione offered after a beat, rising to her feet. “And I care very deeply for him so if tardiness is the result of love, then so be it.”

McGonagall blanched and covered her mouth with her hands watching as the princess of Gryffindor flitted from the room and presumably down into the dungeons.


	18. The string snaps

  
It had been a strange evening for Severus; his hairs still smelling of Hermione’s coconut shampoo and causing a small smile to break out over his face. That must have been what triggered those delicious daydreams.   
  
By the time he had reached the Great Hall for dinner it had been seven promptly. Not many students had arrived, and he sat down eating his meal with thoughts on the entrancing Gryffindor he slowly wanted to spend more and more time with. It was a strange feeling; every moment she was gone from him he felt the oddest of sensations.  
  
It was if there was a string tied to the rib under his heart, which tied on the other end to her own. Every moment she was away from him the string grew taught, threatening to break and he felt himself yearning for her. When she had left for school he had felt that invisible string pulling him to her, never wanting to snap.   
  
And so as he watched the students milling into the hall for dinner and didn't behold his Hermione, that familiar tugging began at him. It was harsh, searing pain as he wondered for a horrible moment if she was in trouble. But reason prevailed and he knew she wasn't.  

Dinner went on, and he noticed that Harry and Ron kept shooting each other looks, and reading their lips he deciphered they were wondering about Hermione themselves.  
  
Again that tug at him, and he felt his breath leave him. He stood, preparing to go after her to her home. To find her and hug her, and have her hold him. To him these small hugs and stolen kisses were beginning to have a hold on him.   
  
"Severus?" McGonagall had said from several seats down, he looked to her with spite. _Good God you old crow, can't this wait?_   
  
"You've a note under your plate."  
  
Snape sat, throwing Minerva a confused look and hiding it from the others with a scowl. He took the small parchment into his hands, his heart beating. Hermione. He hid it from the prying eyes next to him and read it quickly, his dark eyes sliding over the messy words.  
  
_Professor  
  
I need to speak with you about a matter of   
  
great importance. Please meet me in  
  
the Slytherin common room after dinner.   
  
Thank you in advance.  
  
Pansy Parkinson._  
  
Snape had grimaced, not wanting to step within two feet of the little twit. After her antics he didn't trust her at all, much too slippery for his tastes. But he was her Head of House, and with that title came certain obligations. In turn he had risen, shooting Minerva a wayward glance and strode down the aisle, separating several tables.   
  
Around him he heard the trademark whisper of, _greasy git_ and _overgrown bat._ And for some reason this pained him more than usual.   
  
_How dare they make assumptions when they don't even know who I am, truly?_ He had glared at the tables as he passed them. _I can't be kind and sweet like those other sappy teachers. If I want my students to learn intimidation is the only way. The ruddy dolts don't even see that I'm doing them a favor._  
  
But he knew, somewhere in the back of his mind that one person did understand him. One person did like him for who he was, he didn't need to pretend. Hermione.   
  
He had gone to the common room with mixed emotions, repulsed evidently, worried a bit when Pansy had mentioned Hermione earlier, and most obviously; confused.  
  
He had seen Pansy, hands together on her lap as she took in a deep breath, looking to the older man in a bit of fear. It took him a few short steps to reach where she sat and he had looked down at her with contemptible boredom.  
  
"I assume this will be a quick meeting, Parkinson?" he had drawled, his mind on the vision of his lover. Pansy had shot him a grimace and followed him into his office before speaking.  
  
"Professor," she said dryly, "I need to tell you something, something I think you deserve to know."  
  
He recalled the small smirk she had been trying to hide. The eyes that had glittered so malevolently as he tried to hide all emotions from his face.   
  
"Well then," he had offered dimly, "go on."  
  
And so she had told him everything. From the begging involving a contract to her own tried seduction ploys that had stopped the whole thing. She asked him if he recalled the word _'cheater_ ' on her forehead, and he did. She had explained the contract and what it entailed.   
  
All the while she watched him. She watched as he looked surprised, then angry, then hurt, angry again. She had tried not to smile, imagining what this was going to cause. She couldn't, it was all too much. Finally they had sat across from one another saying nothing with Snape looking to the floor.   
  
A familiar sense of betrayal and anger had enveloped Severus as he imagined Hermione giggling about him with her friends. Telling Pansy of his sloppy seduction. Probably laughing at him behind his back after they had made love. Her crocodile tears and begging him to come back had certainly fooled him. He felt like a complete idiot letting a silly little girl affect him like this.

 _How weak, I am._   
  
"And why do you believe this to be any of my interest or concern Miss Parkinson?" he had finally asked, his voice thick and his eyes glittering as he struggled to keep from getting to dizzy to hold a conversation. His mind was buzzing,   
  
"Because sir," Pansy had said superciliously, "the bet’s been called off. I think Hermione didn’t want to go through with it anymore. She said it was too hard trying to pretend like she found you attractive. I was just preparing you because I quite respect you and I didn’t want you embarrassed."

She saw the fainted twitch in his mouth at that comment and she waited, holding her breath for something more. Instead Snape drew a bored glance up to her accompanied with a nonplussed shrug.

“I assure you there is nothing to be embarrassed about, Miss Parkinson. A relationship with a student, as I told you before, is something I have no interest in. If that’s all, I suggest you get back to studying for your NEWTS.”

Snape hadn't said anything more, only stood and indicated with a nod where she should leave. She had done so slowly, looking back to see if she could detect any tears. Damn. She couldn't.She shrugged to herself, shutting the office door behind her and leaving Snape to take several deep breaths, and get his notes ready for his class the next morning.   
  
As soon as his break had commenced he had come back to his office, eyes dark and somber. He had insisted on taking his mind off of Hermione and decided to distract himself up with a small potion he had been working with on the side.   
  
He had sensed her as soon as she had come in, that familiar scent of cleanliness shooting around him. But he did not turn. He wouldn't. She didn't deserve to be spoken to. She betrayed him and to him she was filth.

“Severus.”  
  
When he heard his name on his lips he felt as if he would melt. He wanted to turn, to kiss her, take her into his rooms and explore her. But to what avail? He was a bet. He was a joke and he’d been fooled! He! An ex deatheater! Fooled by a Gryffindor chit!

Now Hermione looked to him ignoring her in dismay, her eyes filling with the tears that had been dreading this precise moment.  Pansy had told him – she could tell. Everything about him that she had found so warm was now ice cold.  His voice was firm determined and like a stranger’s.

“Get  out.”

"No, please listen to me. I'll explain!"

Snape whirled around then, his eyes belonging to that of a madman. He practically flew across the classroom, his eyes like daggers.

“Explain what exactly? That I was a bet? A farce you made with Pansy Parkinson? That you took my affection and made a mockery of it?” Snape was almost spitting he was so angry. “And yet I have no one to blame but myself. I debased myself the moment I considered you anything _other_ than an insufferable know-it-all virgin.”

"I-"

"Don't interrupt me you silly little girl. Yes, because that's what you are, Granger. A whining, silly, little baby of a girl. You're only lucky this ended now before I got bored of you. Why the shocked face, Granger? What did you think? That I would be some white night for you? Or better yet, some project for you to work on?" Snape was continuing at a frenetic pace, his words swirling around Hermione in a furious whirlwind. "Many women before you have tried and failed and many women _after_ you will do the same. I'll save you the heartache now; I would have fucked you until I was bored of you and then tossed you aside until I found something better, which I would have easily. But truly Miss Granger, you should be thanking me because if anything, I did you a favor by fucking you."

His ragged breaths punctuated the air as his words seemed to smack Hermione across the face. She stared up at him in mute shock at his words. He had been mean in class to her in the past, cruel even, but never in her wildest dreams did she imagine he would speak to her like this. These horrible fears of hers brought to the forefront and confirmed from the man she had thought meant so much. 

“Now,” Snape hissed inches from her face, “I said _get out_ and I meant it."

Hermione couldn’t contain the sob that bubbled in her chest as she rushed out the door, closing it behind her and sliding to the floor. She had never felt pain this acute in her life, no matter what adventures she and Harry and Ron had been through. This earnest pain that seemed to radiated from her ribs outward had her gasping for breath between cries of anguish. Her view of the door became blurry as she stared at the door, knowing the love of her life stood on the other side. Hating her as he had every right to. He didn’t have all the facts and that was her fault. But the things he'd said. The cruelty that had seeped so easily from his tongue. She would never forget it in a million years.   
  
Severus’ hands were on the other side of the door; his head leaned against its rough surface, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as he heard her sporadic sobbing of Hermione Granger through the wood. His body was shaking as he resisted the urge to throw open the door, scoop her into his arms and tell her all was well. But he couldn't.   
  
She had betrayed him.

And so now he stood, leaning against the closed door of his office and hearing the anguished sobs from the one person he thought he could begin to trust. Slowly the sobbing slowed as sniffles and random coughs punctuating the air. He heard as she dragged herself up and shuffled off down the echoing hallways. He moved back behind his desk, marking down ingredients and ignoring the pain in his side.   
  
But as it was he sat grimly behind his desk, eyes blurring as he marked parchments in front of him. F's starting to become a regular occurrence and he missed her declaration. Severus Snape refused to be made a fool of.   
  
The string below his heart had snapped.


	19. True Friends

 

  
Hours later Hermione walked down the dim halls, her face tearstained, her hair a mess and her heart broken. She had been hiding in the forest on the grounds of Hogwarts for some time, tears streaming and the sobs never stopping.   
  
She had come in from the cold air when it began to grow too dark, and she knew she would probably be in trouble from Minerva when she found out Hermione had missed curfew.   
  
Now she stalked through the halls in a daze, not recognizing anyone she encountered. She was in a troubled frenzy, her emotions washed from her. She had no more feeling left to feel, whether it be hate or love.   
  
_It was only a matter of time before he found out Hermione...you had your chance and you blew it._

Yes, she had blown it. All chances to spend eternity with the man of her dreams and fantasies were gone. All because she had to engage in an idiotic bet.   
  
_Mind you, you never would have acted upon your desires if it hadn't been for the bet._  
  
Even if that was true, Severus wouldn’t buy it. He wouldn't care. She knew him well enough to know that he knew only one side of the story. She had made a bet, she had tricked him into loving her. He was furious and Severus Snape was a proud man. There would be no coming back from this.

 _You heard him. He would have gotten bored with you._   
  
She wrestled with her own anger then, holding her head as she realized not only had she given herself to a Professor, but a man she barely knew. It was as if everything had fit, she wasn't lonely anymore and she had an intellectual equal. She _had_ someone to care for. Now all was gone and she realized how little she truly knew of him.  
  
Suddenly a large group of people were ahead of her, 7th year Slytherins to be precise. Hermione held in a groan and prepared to walk past them but Pansy shot out an arm, pushing her back as the Slytherins chuckled in anticipation.   
  
"What's wrong Mudblood? Your Prince charming find out you were a frog?"  
  
It was Pansy who had spoken and Hermione slowly looked to the girl with anger as Pansy herself shot out a superior smirk. She spoke harshly looking on as Hermione looked so utter lost and weak.   
  
"I told Potter and the Weasel and of course the Slytherin common room of your undying affections for a certain enigmatic Professor," Pansy sneered as the group behind her laughed. "They were so disgusted they couldn't even finish their dinners."  
  
More chuckling, Hermione felt her face flushing but again, all fight within her was gone.

_Why can't they all just go away?_

She was growing scared, worried and humiliated. She wanted nothing more than to be left alone to cry herself to sleep in her rooms. Severus was ripped from her, wasn't that enough? Did she really have to endure this as well? But Pansy fed on weakness in others, and now in a single moment the brain of Hogwarts was at her mercy. A much too enticing opportunity to pass up.   
  
"Where are your friends now, Granger?" Draco sneered, his nose wrinkling in disgust as he looked the hated girl whose marks were always better than his own.  To the girl who punched him and thought she was worthy of even going to same school as he. Pansy answered for him, her hands on her hips and a small grin curved on her blood-red lips.

"They're ashamed to be seen with her."   
  
Hermione felt hot, piping tears starting at the back of her eyes, pricking them as the lump in her throat grew larger. She shook her head with dark eyes downcast. No.   
  
"They're disgusted that you're even part of their house."  
  
Hermione felt herself growing weaker, their words doing more than physical jabs ever could. Again she shook her head, and as if she had said the words herself a voice rang out be her her.  
  
"That's not true."  
  
Rapid footstep were suddenly heard from behind Hermione, accompanying the familiar voice. She looked over her shoulder and felt her heart rising. Harry, Ron, Ginny, Neville and about half of the 7th year Gryffindor were marching down the hall, looking at the large group of Slytherins with disdain. Harry rushed over to Hermione, grasping her in a crushing hug that she returned with desperate thanks and glared at the vindictive Miss Parkinson.   
  
"We're lucky to have Hermione in Gryffindor. She's brilliant, more than any of you lot could ever hope to be. While she's making millions of galleons at her job, you'll be washing toilets for knuts."   
  
"You Slytherins are disgusting," Ron threw in before Pansy could speak, spitting at Malfoy and smiling as a large gob of it landed on the fair boy's cloak. His light eyes sparkled angrily as he sneered.  
  
"You're going to regret that Weasel," he growled. "This cloak costs more than your father’s yearly salary."  
  
Ron snarled preparing to go forward as Neville held him back while the Slytherins laughed, pointing at the spectacle. Even Draco's face broke out into a grin, what a bloody joke. Harry began guiding Hermione out of the circle as she heard the hisses and boos erupting from the Slytherin's. She didn't care. She just wanted to leave. Harry looked down to her like an older brother would; warmly with affection and concern.

“C’mon, let’s go back to the common room.”

They walked in silence a few moments before she couldn’t help but speak.

"You're not angry that I didn't tell you about Snape?" she said weakly, looking to the mature Harry that stood beside her, holding her, comforting her as only a close a friend could.   
  
"Course not 'Mione," he said, wiping the stray tear that had slipped down her cheek. "Ron and I were just surprised is all. We thought you were mad at us."   
  
Hermione nodded, looking around to the Gryffindor's that welcomed her back from holiday's, telling her how much she meant to them. How much she was missed. Perhaps there was hope for her to make a comeback after all.   
  
"How did all of you ever find me?" she asked in disbelief. Ron walked alongside her as well with Ginny in close pursuit. He ran a hand through his hair and shot a small grin at her.   
  
"Marauders Map. We saw the crowd of them surrounding you and decided to act."  
  
Hermione nodded, understanding completely. She was about to offer a solemn 'thank you' to her sweet friends when she heard Pansy's screeching voice call out her name. She tensed and turned slowly, looking into the face of pure unadulterated hatred.   
  
"He was only using you, you know that?" she shouted, her eyes shining with angry tears. "How could he ever love a Mudblood like you?"  
  
Hermione looked at the girl with pity, seeing the various Slytherins walking away disinterested, leaving Pansy alone and shaking with fury. Hermione walked towards her, seeing as the girl straightened up, looking at Hermione with eyes alight with hidden fury.   
  
"I'm sorry you're so bitter about everything Pansy," Hermione offered with a small shrug as the girl looked to her confused. "Hopefully you'll find someone to love," she paused, "like I did."  
  
She was about to turn when she heard Pansy's overconfident laugh. "Yeah, but yours was over pretty damn quick once I told him the truth. Not that he didn't deserve it. Get over it Granger, only some old, greasy git could ever want you in-."   
  
She had barely gotten the word "you" out of her ugly, twisted mouth before Hermione had whirled around and in one fluid motion connected her fist with Pansy' jutting jaw, sending the girl flying backward into some lingering Slytherin kin.   
  
That was when all hell broke loose.


	20. The unexpected match

 

  


"Bloody fool,” Snape muttered, pushing away the bottle of wine that had been at his elbow all evening. He had intended to open it, get sloshed and be done with it, but something stopped him. The pain was too much to be dimmed with alcohol.   
  
The office was cold, barely any light coming in. It was well past ten and he assumed that dinner had   
  
Albus had been in to see him earlier that evening after Hermione’s inglorious departure. His eyes a dark blue of anger missing their usual merry twinkle.  He’d slammed the door behind him in fury, slapping his aged hands on the potion master’s desk.  
  
"Are you a bloody imbecile, Severus?" he had started before Snape could even make a move to speak. "Do you have any idea what you've done? The rumors this has caused? Do you want to be fired!?"

Snape had been taken aback at Dumbledore's harsh speech. He assumed Pansy would have started the rumors. Little wench. Albus saw as the younger man before him gave a spiritless shrug and looked away in shame and to his shock, he saw the tears that gathered at the edge of Snape’s eyes before being brushed angrily away.

All fury that had been building in Dumbledore since he’d heard of the allegations left him, leaving him deflated and gaping.   
  
"I'll be by again tomorrow lad," Albus said shakily, making his way to the door, "we can have a talk then. You’re in no shape for it now."  
  
Severus watched the older man shakily make his way to the door and shut it behind him softly. Pity had taken over Severus then, he shouldn't have dragged the Albus' name along with his through the mud. Albus was the one person he could depend on when he had escaped from the dark side and this is how he repaid his kindness? Fraternizing with a student!? He imagined there would be many angry owls sent from concerned parents over the amorous advances of a Professor to a student. An ex Deatheater of all people.   
  
Now his dark cloak was off and he sat slumped in his armchair, looking at the wall of his office with indifference. He should be marking. He should be doing something productive. But he wasn't. He was brooding over _her_. He pictured her face, her soft lips, her laugh...her hands tracing along his stomach as he groaned, his hips shifting as he thought of her. She was still driving him mad even when far from him.   
  
_Only a bet could ever get a creature like that to look at you twice, you ugly, greasy g-_  
  
Suddenly a knock sounded at his door breaking him of his destroying thoughts and Minerva's traditional pointed hat came seconds before her equally pointed face.  Was the entire staff of Hogwarts going to deride him this evening?

"Severus," she stated, closing the office door behind her and walking to him. She sat in the chair in front of his desk, eyeing the still closed bottle of wine before looking back to her colleagues face.   
  
"What do you want?" he snarled, shooting daggers as she primly sat across from him.   
  
"You don't have to be so rude."  
  
Snape eyes glimmered, "oh I beg your pardon. You must have had a rough day. Were you caught in the middle of an affair with one of your students to find out it was all because you were the receiving end of a bet?"  
  
Her eyes were staring at him, but she did not speak. He continued, furious at her comment.  
  
"No? Well then, were you perhaps berated by the Headmaster? Did he lose all the respect he had once given you? Because that Minerva, would be the _only_ reason I would ever be civil to you at this moment in time."   
  
His arms crossed over his chest as he sulked, looking to her and daring her to speak. The Head of Gryffindor did so, without the usual tact she had gained through her years as a Professor. Severus was acting like a spoiled child.   
  
"I don't know why you love your own company so much Severus Snape," she said stiffly. "You're the rudest most irritating man I have ever come across, and Hermione Granger is a fool for loving you."  
  
His eyes widened a bit, obviously taken aback at the comment. Love? His hooded orbs quickly resumed their normal size and he shook his head, he didn't need to hear such idiotic speeches.   
  
"If she loved me Minerva, she wouldn't have lied to me. Wouldn’t have made me out to be a joke. Besides," he went on, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't care for her at all. She was simply a pleasant distraction from these dull dungeons and it's _never welcome_ visitors."

Minerva sighed, the insult stinging but she knew he was only acting on defenses, that's how he always was. Never letting anyone in, always pushing away. Now someone had burrowed herself in, entranced him and he had grown to have true affection towards her.  That bet had been a slap in the face, confirming in him all his worst fears.   
  
"That's not true Severus. I think you care for her quite deeply. You've been like a different person these past few days," her large eyes were watery, looking to the younger man intensely. He drew his eyes from the floor to meet her own and a familiar sneer that had been missing the past few days came back with vigor.   
  
"I think anyone would be in a good mood if their evenings were occupied with certain activities, don't you? “ he trailed off, a smirk on his sinister face.   
  
McGonagall blushed angrily, how dare he? Her hands were clenched as were her teeth and she tried to remain aloof. She had to get through to him. The git.   
  
"Talk things over with her. Perhaps there's a different side."  
  
"No."  
  
Minerva grew exasperated, giving a small sigh out her thinly parted lips. "And why's that?"  
  
"She betrayed me,” he said coldly, his dark eyes fixed upon Minerva's face. McGonagall looked to him a moment, chosing her words carefully. When she spoke them she had an air of wisdom that Severus had obviously overlooked.

"Well if you never cared for her in the first place Severus, why does it matter?"  
  
He was about to speak again, his dark eyes flashing when the unmistakable sounds of a brawl began sounding into his office.  
  
He and McGonagall shot a look of understood priorities and stood, rushing from his office and into the hall where they followed the sounds of shrieking like cats. They could see as several students rounded the corner, wanting to see what all the noise was about.   
  
In the middle of the chanting circle Hermione's lower lip was swelling, her hands shaking as she kicked Pansy harshly in the side, knocking the girl off her feet and sending her toppling to the ground. Pansy howled looking to Hermione with hatred.  
  
"YOU BITCH!"   
  
Snape and McGonagall moments later rushed into the hallway just in time to view as Hermione Granger gave a resounding punch into Pansy Parkinson's nose.   
  
Blood spurted about as Pansy's eyes widened and she howled. Hermione was breathless, and had a small cut on the side of her face. Pansy was positively purple and screamed as her classmates cheered her on.   
  
Pansy fell to the floor holding her nose and screaming at the top of her lungs. "YOU MUDBLOOD! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"   
  
McGonagall and Snape were dismissing students, pushing them out of the way and telling them to get back to their houses. Threatening of points seemed most effective, as did detentions with Filch.   
  
"Where are their wands?" McGonagall managed to choke out as Neville rushed over, looking twitchy and shaky as he looked to Snape.   
  
"I have them Ma'am," he said softly, his his round cheeks flushed as he handed them to her and she put them in the pocket of her robes. "I grabbed them when they started fighting."  
  
Pansy charged at Hermione then, grasping her by her long hair and trying to swing her. Hermione squealed, scratching at Pansy's hands until she had no choice but to let go.  
  
"Miss Granger! Miss Parkinson! Stop this instant or you'll both be expelled!"  
  
McGonagall's threats were lost as Hermione overpowered her speech with her frantic screaming, lunging at Pansy and punching the girls’ stomach into oblivion.  
  
She sat atop the girls’ abdomen, holding her down and punching. Finally she stopped, pushing the stray hair out of her eyes and looking down at Pansy with passionate intensity. The girl's face was red and splotchy from the lack of oxygen and her words came out halted under Hermione's weight on her chest.   
  
"Get. Off. Me. M-Mudblood."  
  
Hermione shot Pansy one small sneer and obviously not noticing the Professors behind her, she raised a fist in the air preparing to ram it right into Pansy's teeth.  
  
Suddenly a familiar scent of sandalwood descended upon her as a grip snaked around her wrist, holding her fist in the air to prevent her from smashing it into Pansy's purple face. Breathing heavily she looked to the teachers behind her with an unreadable expression as Pansy shouted for Hermione to get off of her. McGonagall stood looking at Hermione in disbelief at her top student, face bruised and her knuckles covered in blood.   
  
"You punch her one more time, and I'm afraid you'll have to be expelled Miss Granger," McGonagall said, her mouth in an O of surprise. In all her life, she never would have expected Hermione Granger to be that vicious a fighter. Although she did recall the one instance when Hermione punched Draco Malfoy clear across the jaw. At this moment, deep down Minerva almost wished Hermione _would_ punch Pansy just once more.   
  
The hand that held itself around Hermione’s wrist still drew her to a standing position as Pansy crawled off, away from the dizzy Hermione. Hermione didn't notice though, she was staring into the bottomless eyes of Severus Snape, and it was taking all of her strength not to cry. Minerva watched the exchange before breaking in.  
  
"Fifty points and detention with Filch tomorrow night Miss Granger. Seven o'clock sharp."  
  
Hermione didn't answer at first, opting wiping the blood that began trickling from the side of her mouth where Pansy had scratched with her free hand. Finally she drew her courageous eyes up to the man she was so deeply in love with it pained her to drag her eyes to those of Minerva McGonagall’s.   
  
"Yes professor."  
  
* * *  
  
"Pansy’s got detention too, with Professor Flitwick," Harry said a while later in his chambers as Ron and he sat on the edge of the bed. Hermione lay on Harry’s bed as he held a small bag of ice over her cut forehead. Hermione groaned as the icy touch invaded it.  
  
"Ouch. She got off easy then."  
  
"Oh I don’t know," Ron said munching thoughtfully on some candy he had obtained from some house elves. "He can be pretty nasty when it comes to violence. I hear he was always being picked on in school."  
  
"Here," Harry said, placing some lotion over her head and massaging it over the wounds delicately. "I stole this from Snape’s storage when he was taking points off everybody."  
  
Hermione nodded, almost feeling herself becoming healed. "Thanks Harry."  
  
"No problem."  
  
Hermione’s head still lay on the pillow and she closed her eyes to prevent the tears from spilling out. Harry looked to her in concern, brushing her cheek gently with his hand. "What’s the matter?"   
  
"I shouldn’t have started it," Hermione said lowly, not daring to open her eyes again. Harry shook his head, wiping the hair from Hermione’s face.   
  
"You may have punched her, Mione," Harry said grinning then. "And very thoroughly might I add."

Hermione snickered, pushing him playfully, his tone turned serious now. "But you didn’t start it. Pansy did from the start."   
  
"Yeah, you can’t help it if she’s a terrible fighter," Ron chimed in. The three of them laughed loudly, replaying Pansy’s face as she had fallen to the ground in shock after Hermione had punched her the first time.   
  
"I’d give anything to see her face again." Ron said wistfully a smile on his freckled face.

  
Harry shrugged, "Just go to the pensieve."  
  
"And risk running into Sna-" he stopped mid sentence. His eyes dropping to the ground from Hermione’s face. "Sorry."  
  
"Don’t worry Ron," she said kindly, patting his leg from where she lay. "I’m not going to delude myself into thinking there’s a chance."  
  
"But Hermione," Harry hesitated. He never much cared for Snape, but seeing his friend in such a state was driving him mad. She deserved someone better, but she really seemed to care for Snape. "Isn’t there a chance?"  
  
Hermione smiled sadly with tears no longer in her eyes. She shook her head, patting her slowly healing forehead and wincing as she spoke.  
  
"No Harry, I’m afraid our chance at a happy ending is quite ruined.”

As in on cue, a knock at the common door room sounded.   
  
* * *   
  
He paced the Potions classroom for the millionth time that night grumbling and muttering to himself as he flung empty bottles over his shoulder as he dug around in his shelves.   
  
_I was sure I had that wound healing mixture right here._ He frowned deeply, tapping his chin absently and thinking over who could have pilfered it. McGonagall had asked him for it and he was angry that he would have nothing to produce. He didn’t really understand why she needed it, but he assumed it was to aid Hermione and that in itself driving him into urgency of retrieving the lost concoction.  
  
Suddenly a knock sounded at the door breaking his thoughts. He sighed angrily but didn’t bother to turn around, instead opting to root around further in his shelving and shouted over his shoulder irritably at the offending party outside his door.  
  
"Enter."  
  
The door creaked opened slowly and shut at just the same pace. Footsteps were fast and quiet as they neared him and he didn’t feel the need to turn around until he heard a small voice sound out a few feet away.   
  
"Professor?"  
  
He whirled around, looking to Hermione in shock but trying to keep his face neutral. "What are you doing here?"  
  
Hermione looked uneasy and he saw that she looked as normal as before. No swollen lips, no cuts or gashes. She twisted her fingers together, not able to meet his eyes. "Professor McGonagall told me that informed me that I was to come to your classroom at once."   
  
Snape’s eyes narrowed and he knew she was telling the truth. God knows she didn’t want to be here any more than he did. She was tense, and angry he could tell. Not that she deserved to be. Suddenly his eyes shot to her dimly.  
  
"You say McGonagall asked you to come here?"   
  
Hermione looked up, nodding. "Yes."  
  
It suddenly came together as Snape sprang for the closed door just in time to hear a click from the other side.  
  
"Stay out of this you meddling crow!" he shouted furiously, pounding on the door as Hermione looked to him in shock from a few feet away. Suddenly Minerva’s muffled voice sounded out from the other side of the door.   
  
"I am not letting either of you out until you have talked things out."   
  
Hermione was now at Snape’s side, looking angrily at the door as if it were McGonagall.

"Professor McGonagall,” whe said grimly, "This is highly unorthodox. Professor Snape and I have nothing further to discuss."   
  
"But you do. I’ll come back in a bit to see how you two have progressed."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes, looking to Snape with fury as she heard Minerva's disappearing footsteps. She glanced over to Snape who was just standing there staring at her.

"What are you waiting for? Just use your wand and get us out of here."

“She has wards up against it,” he said with arms crossed and teeth clenched. “I can feel them just from sense. They are impenetrable as Minerva is not inexperienced with charms such as these.”  
  
Hermione sighed darkly, walking to a nearby stool and collapsing into it. She sighed, her head heavy and she felt the intense build of tension in the room almost suffocating her.   
  
Snape retired to a stool nearby as well. He sat across the room from her, glaring at her as he did.  
She looked up from her daydreaming and caught sight of his intense glowering. She sat up straight and shot him a sneer much like his own.  
  
"Oh just stop it already. Its bad enough having to be stuck in here with you. Your glaring isn’t helping anything."

Snape looked to her surprised, he hadn’t expected such hostility from a woman who had clearly betrayed him. He stood and went over the cauldron that he had been working on when she had interrupted him beforehand.   
  
Minutes passed before Hermione, curious as usual came over to him, peering over his shoulder and then finally speaking to him. "What are you working on?"  
  
He didn't answer her, instead busying himself with cutting up palsa roots and tossing them in, making it quite obvious he was ignoring her. Hermione looked to the opened page of his potion book on the nearby table and scanned it eagerly.   
.   
  
"Do you want some help?"  
  
He hadn't been expecting that. He didn't know whether to be cross with her or amused. He looked over his shoulder to her and saw as she stood eagerly waiting for his reply, and he recalled why had had been so drawn to her. She so so intent on learning, so eager to expand her mind.   
  
In turn he looked her over and then shrugged.   
  
Hermione nodded, knowing that this was as much of a positive response as she would be getting before grasping a small vial and moving closer to him. He felt her small frame next to his and he mentally prepared himself. He felt himself growing flushed as he watched her slip in three small drops of dragon's blood.   
  
A while later after working in stony silence he looked to his book and back to her as she stood near the cauldron, her hair damp around the edges from the steam.   
  
"It needs an hour to simmer."   
  
They both sat down on either side of the table, neither making a move to speak. He watched as she rested her head on her arms on the table, and he resisted the urge to stroke that head of hers against all better reason. After all, she had wronged him.  
  
She didn't see as Snape parted his mouth to speak, her head was pulled up by her when they heard as McGonagall came down the hall and rapped upon the door.   
  
"Severus? Hermione? How are you two coming along?"  
  
"Fine," Snape said surly, looking to Hermione and instructing her with his eyes to follow his lead. "Miss Granger and I have had the most interesting of developments."  
  
There was a moment of silence.  
  
"You're a bad liar Severus."  
  
With that she left them, her shoes tapping away at the stone floor as she headed to Albus' office to inform him of the developments. It had been their idea together after all and she knew he was desperate to hear the latest.   
  
Snape let out an anguish cry and slammed his fist against the door. Hermione sat by the simmering potion. His lips were in a thin line and she tried not to look at him when she spoke, and she did rather shakily.   
  
"Severus?"  
  
She felt his dark eyes on her and she knew she had to come out and say it, no matter how much it hurt her pride. He was waiting, eyes narrowed and emotions hidden.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
There was a loud sigh from him. The atmosphere was much changed from when she had first been thrust into his classroom. Still, the bitterness remained.  
  
"No need," he said dismissively waving a flippant hand in her direction. “We were both using each other to pass the lonesome holidays. I wouldn't read too much into it."  
  
Hermione drew her eyes to meet his, her lips trembling. "You don't mean that." it was a question more than a statement. He looked to her puzzled and then defensive.  
  
"I do."  
  
Hermione felt her anger boiling again, worse than it had been with Pansy and her Slythein lot in the hallway.   
  
She jumped up from her stool and strode over to him where he sat sneering at her curiously. Finally tears fell from her face and he stared at her in awe. She felt her pride shattered, all prior walls gone. She stood before him emotionally bare and all he could do was stare at her.   
  
Finally she felt her jaw clench and in a sudden movement that she barely realized herself, she slapped his soundly across his pale cheek. It made a loud hollow smacking sound and he jumped from his stool, pushing her against the wall with his hands on her shoulders.   
  
"I can't believe the things you’ve said to me today," she shouted as he growled, looking at her venomously. How she ever could have mistaken those dark coal like stones for passion filled was beyond her. His words were low, still silky but laced with disdain. “You’ve been so awful and hurtful.”  
  
"Don't you dare hit me again you silly-"  
  
Hermione stopped him with a shake of her head, and tried to pull from his grasp, but he held tightly to her. "We've been through this mundane back and forth enough. I am _not_ a silly little girl. You are _not_ a greasy git. We are two people in love and you're stopping it because I made a simple mistake!"   
  
He backed up a bit; his hands dropping from his shoulders as he emphatically threw them up in the air as he yelled at her.   
  
" _I'm_ stopping it? I'm the one stopping it?! I don't believe I was the one that made a bet and signed a contract no less about when I'd shag you!"  
  
Hermione blushed at that. "If you must know I tore up the contract before we even, made love," the words were harsh and with clarity. "I made love to you because I wanted to."  
  
She turned around and made her way to the steps leading to his office door, her shoulders shaking as she dropped clumsily to a seating position upon the stairs. He looked to her in shock. He hadn't expected that. He remembered Pansy had told him Hermione had torn up the contract but the little wench just hadn't informed him of when she had done so.

Hermione went on crying softly until she felt his warm presence across from her. She wiped her eyes and looked over her fingers at him. He was sitting and peering into her face with dark eyes glittering. He spoke softly and slowly.  
  
"Were you lying?"  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
He cleared his throat, "about wanting to. Have relations with me. Were you lying?"  
  
Hermione's chest swelled and she swallowed roughly, "I'd never lie about something like that."  
  
Snape nodded, shuffling a little closer. Hermione's heart jumped as she did the same. They were inches away and she shivered as Snape brushed a lone tear from her cheek with the back of his forefinger.   
  
"I don't know what to say," he offered honestly. Hermione smiled softly, leaning forward and preparing to place a loving kiss on his welcoming lips. “I’m ashamed that I said those awful things to you earlier. My pride was wounded.”  
  
"I almost lost you," His sorrowful words were muffled as his mouth finally met hers, their kissing deepened, their mouths almost becoming one in the process. Suddenly he moved back, pensive and she felt her hope crumbling.   
  
_Did you really think it would be that easy Hermione?_  
  
"I have to tell you something first," he said with a grimace, and Hermione tensed beside him. He blushed a bit and she wondered what could cause such emotion in a man like Severus Snape.   
  
_He's going to tell me that he's slept with Pansy...or that he's going to die in six months...or that he's in love with Albus..._  
  
"I think it’s crucial you know that a while ago," he halted, his breath in his throat, "that I snuck into your room and well, hid under your bed until you fell asleep."  
  
Hermione’s mouth gaped open as she looked to him in disbelief and a laugh escaped her. Was that all? The rigid Professor sneaking into her bedchambers to spy on her? She put on a solemn tone, looking to him bemused.  
  
_I never would have expected that from you._  
  
"And just why did you feel the dire need to do that Severus?"  
  
He ran a nervous hand through his hair, an action that didn’t seem to suit him at all but was very endearing.

"Well you see the door was open. I was checking that nothing was stolen. I was in the middle of your room when you started coming in and I panicked and hid under your bed."  
  
Hermione had started coming closer to him, eyes laughing along with her lips. She stopped in front of him and looked up to him with a surprisingly interested look in her dark eyes.

"Did you hear anything while you were under there?”   
  
Snape gulped and looked away shrugging, Hermione instantly knew he had. Well, better that he did anyway. Her hand slowly slid to his clothed torso, tracing small circles on its flat surface. She felt him stiffen under her touch.   
  
"Why me Hermione?" he asked, pulling from her a bit, feeling those familiar insecure feelings prickling him all over. He had one question that still needed to be answered. "Why did you pick me of all people?"  
  
Hermione blushed, shrugging at his earnestness. "I was drawn to your mystery I suppose at first. And when I knew what was under that, I was drawn more to your intelligence, then I kept uncovering more and more of you that I wanted to know more of. Then somewhere along the way I suppose I fell in love with you."   
  
"Love?" he said in a impossible deep voice. "You're quite young to be talking of such a thing."   
  
"You don't have to be old to know what love is Severus."  
  
Snape pondered this a moment, nodding and moving closer, slowly. "I suppose your right. But I’m interested in hearing what empirical evidence you have to back such a claim.”

She giggled sweetly up at him, "what? You mean how do I know I love you?"  
  
He nodded, seeming as if he was taking in research for a project of his. She shrugged, trying to put her emotions into words and finding it quite impossible. Still as he sat there across from her, waiting for a reply she answered the only way she knew how. Truthfully.  
  
"I just know."  
  
He nodded, not speaking a moment but looking thoughtful. Hermione knew this relationship was going to take a lot of time to heal and develop, Snape was proving to be very sensitive in this realm of his life. He quickly kissed her forehead, muttering something under his breath as he did so.  
  
"Sorry?" she said looking to him in question. He blushed and looked to her solemnly. His voice dropped to a whispered mutter.  
  
"I said," he drawled embarrassed, "I love you as well, despite your annoying Gryffindor ways."

Herrmione's face broke out into a smile, "why Severus Snape you love me? But how do you know?"  
  
"I just do,” he growled as he leaned against her, cupping her cheek with one hand and brushing his lips against her own. Her eyes fell closed and she felt tingles shooting down her while his tongue slowly licked her bottom lip. Shivering she leaned further into the kiss feeling as Snape's tongue probed further into her mouth and his lips crushed hers.   
  
His hands were around her waist, drawing her to him and they were becoming heated in the moment. His hands squeezed her breasts as if he had missed their shape. His fingertips circling the nipple that called out to his lips, lips that found them through the fabric as she moaned and writhed underneath him.   
  
He held Hermione's wrists on either side of her, making her almost paralyzed as he moved her skirt up with his hips, revealing a very eager young woman. His hooded eyes revealed the lust in them and his grip on Hermione's shoulders was quickly drawn to more inviting places. She moaned as she felt him below her, kissing her inner thighs as fingers moved up. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she groped around for the zipper of his trousers.  
  
"Wait," He stood suddenly, looking to the aroused Hermione with a small smirk. "I have to do something first."   
  
Hermione sighed good-naturedly, and turned on her side as he rushed off. If someone had told her she was going to be going at it a second time with Severus Snape she would have hit them with a spell and had them carted off to St. Mungos. But now, as she lay waiting for his return to her she could imagine nothing else.  
  
"I'm glad McGonagall stuck us in here," Hermione said off handedly to him. Snape didn't answer and so she turned to see what he was doing. He had removed his cloak and was stalking towards her, speaking in slow languid tones.  
  
"I was just locking the door on our side. I'd rather we weren't disturbed when Minerva comes for another check up."  
  
Hermione giggled nervously as Snape moved closer. His eyes drank in Hermione's delightedly pink face as dropped beside her and pressed his lips to her own, deeply kissing her passionately and then moved to her ear, whispering something filthily into it playfully.   
  
"Severus," she said feigning disbelief as she listened to his proposal,"we couldn't possibly make love _all_ night."  
  
Snape smirked, giving her a delicious eyebrow raise before speaking silkily once more into her ear.   
  
"Would you care to bet on that?"


End file.
